


The Dark Path

by Zoni



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Boarding School, Complete, Contracts, Demons, Drama, M/M, Murder, Occult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 56,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoni/pseuds/Zoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian and Ciel investigate a series of murders at prestigious Tonbridge School. They quickly find that there is more than just darkness and blood under the establishment. With the lives of dozens hanging in the balance, Ciel takes on an opponent who may be able to outdo him in every way. This time, even Sebastian may not be able to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Blood. Everywhere and slowly dripping off the edges of a black velvet cloth. Roughly hewn rope cut deep into Ciel's wrists as it held him down to the top of the charred table. Unable to move, he watched as flashing silver knives cut deep into his forearms. The edges of his skin peeled back, revealing the muscles and veins beneath the surface. He tried to scream but no sound would come out. His entire body felt like it was on fire but he was drowning. An indistinct face loomed over him in the darkness and laughed at him. He was surrounded by a sea of blood. That face, with eyes like coals, watched him and enjoyed what it saw. Its disembodied voice whispered roughly against his ear, "Everything for him and everything for me."

The last bit of the air was sucked away just as a dagger shot down out of the darkness and pierced his heart. Ciel could feel the tip of it searing hot against his flesh as it pushed deeper into his body. Finally finding his voice, Ciel screamed.

"Young master," Sebastian's voice was at his master's side in an instant. Ciel's eyes fluttered open and he looked at the butler. It was only a nightmare. Sweat dripped from his skin and hair as he looked around, taking in his surroundings. His heart was still beating a mile a minute. Sebastian's voice was soft as he asked, "Are you all right, young master?"

"I'm fine."

Ciel sighed and looked around. He was in bed and it was morning. Light filtered dimly through his window. Most of his covers had been thrown off while he slept. His legs were cold. Strangely, though, his arms and chest did not feel cold at all. Then, he realized exactly how he was positioned. Sebastian was bent over his bed and Ciel had his arms wrapped around the butler's neck. One of Sebastian's hands reached down and rubbed Ciel's back in a soothing gesture.

Jumping back, Ciel flushed. Had he really been hugging Sebastian? The demon must have come in to wake him up and found him in the middle of the dream. In his sleep, Ciel had grabbed hold of the closest source of comfort to him; the butler. Sebastian's hand was still on his back. The demon pulled it away when Ciel glared at him. Straightening himself, Sebastian asked, "Are you certain? You look quite pale."

"I said I was fine," Ciel huffed. "It was just a dream."

"Very well," Sebastian said. One of his eyebrows raised skeptically but he said nothing else to indicate that he doubted his master. "I have brought you breakfast. This morning I have prepared raspberry scones and Queen Anne tea. I thought that you might prefer to have breakfast in your chambers this morning so I have brought both of these with me."

Ciel nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Very well."

Sebastian wheeled the small tea tray around to the side of the bed and began to set out the tea service and the small tray of pastries. "There is one other matter, young master."

"What is it?"

"We have received a letter from Her Majesty."

"This early in the morning?" Ciel raised an eyebrow and looked up from the cup of tea that Sebastian handed him. Orders from the Queen usually came mid-day at the earliest due to the time it took to travel from London. When orders arrived unusually late or early in the day, it was usually something particularly important. However, importance was often a matter of perspective. "What does it say?"

Sebastian pulled the letter out of his pocket and read it over. He then summarized. "Her Majesty requests your presence at Tonbridge School, approximately sixty kilometers south of London. In the past month, there have been six murders. All of the bodies were drained of blood. They appear to have been killed in a ritualistic manner with precise, though amateurish, cuts made to drain the body of its fluids. Many of the victims reported finding the bodies of dead animals in their belongings before they were killed."

Ciel set his cup of tea down. "The local authorities will take care of a matter such as that. I expect the school officials have already acted. Why does it concern the Queen?"

"The Queen is most anxious to see this matter resolved because all but one of the deaths involved have been children," Sebastian said as he poured more tea for Ciel. "In addition to this, it would appear that the most recent victim was a young man of some relation to Her Majesty. Therefore, the matter is of personal interest to her. She has made arrangements for you to have a place at the school until the matter has been resolved."

"Under what name?" Ciel nibbled on one of the scones.

"Your own."

Pausing, Ciel looked up at him. "Isn't it unwise to use my own name?"

Sebastian smiled as he began to set out Ciel's clothing for the day. "I believe you will be perfectly fine, young master. The Phantomhive name is well known in the London social circles and aristocracy, but outside of the immediate area you are unlikely to be recognized. I have taken the liberty of looking into the students and teachers at the school. Most are from the northern part of the country and none originate from London."

"I assume that I will be attending as a student," Ciel said as he pushed the covers of his bed back and swung his legs over the edge. "What will you do?"

"As always, I shall accompany you on your journey." Sebastian cleared the plates and cup away as Ciel stood and stretched. "I will be posing as your private tutor."

"A tutor?"

"Of course," Sebastian said. "It would be suspicious for a new instructor and a student to arrive at the same time, so this is a much more logical cover. In addition to that, this will be part of your story for arriving so late in the academic year. You are being introduced to Tonbridge School after problems with your academic performance at another establishment."

Ciel glared at Sebastian. He suspected the butler might have come up with that back story on the spot. He was probably right. Sebastian smiled at him serenely as if enjoying a private joke. Ciel sighed in annoyance. "Fine. We will leave tomorrow."

~

Tonbridge School was an imposing sight against the dying sunset. The dark roof contrasted with the tawny color of the stones and bricks that it was made of. Every one of the lead lined windows looked like a pair of eyes staring out at them. The trip by carriage had taken them several hours and they had arrived much later than anticipated. Ciel and Sebastian disembarked from their carriage before paying the driver. They collected their things and made their way to the entrance hall. At the door, they were greeted by an elderly man who informed them that he was an instructor. Sebastian was given directions on how to get to his own quarters before the instructor turned to lead Ciel towards the boys' dorms. The silence inside the school was deafening. Every step they took made a sound.

"Isn't it unusual for the school to house tutors as well as students?" Ciel asked, walking quickly to keep up with the elderly man in front of him. He was carrying a few of his belongings in a satchel. It would seem unusual to not have a trunk of belonging. He would simply tell anyone who asked that his had not yet arrived.

"Perhaps a bit," the instructor admitted. "We used to require that all private instructors and tutors maintain their own premises off the school grounds."

Ciel raised an eyebrow. "I am glad that my tutor is able to remain at the school. However, I am curious. Why was the policy changed?"

"We have had some recent disturbances," came the reply. "The headmaster felt that it might help students to feel more secure at the school."

"Disturbances?"

"Never you mind, Master Phantomhive. This is your room." The instructor knocked once on a large, wooden door and then pushed it open. The interior of the room was not cramped but it was a close fit. Four wooden beds outlined the walls. Solitary wooden desks were set up on either end of the room so that the students could do work in their room. Around each of the beds, the other boys had trunks and personal belongings neatly organized. Ciel walked into the room and wondered if it might be worth the effort to actually have the trunk brought in, if only to look like he had some intention of staying. They had transported a trunk from the manor house but he had sent it with Sebastian.

The three other boys in the room turned to look at Ciel with interest as the instructor stepped into the room behind him. "Boys, this is Ciel Phantomhive. He will be your new dorm mate. I expect that you will all treat him well and welcome him to the school."

Ciel looked around and nodded at the three other boys that were in the room. The trio looked back at him sullenly as they were introduced.

"This is Andrew Evans," the instructor gestured to a beefy blond boy, followed by two skinny identical redheads that were sitting on a bed and looking at a book, "and Marcus and Henry Engles. We place a very high value on studying here at Tonbridge, Master Phantomhive. I expect that you will understand that after your previous experiences at other schools. Dinner is in a quarter of an hour. I am certain your new friends won't mind showing you to the dining hall."

The instructor closed the door behind him and left Ciel alone with the other boys. They did not look like they thought he would be a great new friend. If anything, they looked as if they did not like being interrupted by a newcomer.

Andrew Evans was the first to speak. "What school were you at before this one?"

Ciel took his small traveling case and deposited it at the foot of the unoccupied bed. "Why does it matter? I am here now." The other boys in the room regarded him dubiously. He looked up at them. "What is it?"

"What happened to your eye?"

Ciel blinked. He was so used to wearing the eye patch that he no longer thought about it. Adults rarely mentioned it. He had not considered that the students at the school might find it curious. "There was an accident a couple of years ago. It's nothing."

"Rough," said one of the twins.

The other twin scooted to the edge of the bed that they were sitting on. "Is it completely gone? Like, is it completely empty? Can you see your own skull?"

"I would prefer not to talk about it," Ciel said.

Evans looked at him. "Why not?"

"I just wouldn't." Ciel moved toward the door. "Where is the dining hall?"

"Follow us," Evans said.

Together, the four of them walked down several long hallways. The hallways were completely identical with wood lining the walls. The only sounds that met Ciel's ears were the sounds of their footsteps on the floors. He could not even hear any other students. He asked, "Is it always this quiet?"

"Not usually," one of the twins said.

The other one added, "It was louder before."

"Before what?"

The three in front of him exchanged looks. Evans spoke up. "Nothing."

Ciel looked at them blankly. That had been less than subtle. While not suspicious, the quiet was definitely unusual. He had never attended an institution like this one but he had been inside of them before. Ciel knew that most boys his age made noise. A lot of it. Even with a very attentive staff and strict rules, it was difficult to keep the sound to a dull roar in most boarding schools. The silence was unnerving.

The feeling of unease lessened as they approached the dining hall. The hallway widened just before it opened into a much larger chamber. The walls expanded to reveal four rows of long, wooden tables. Benches on either side of the tables provided a place to sit. A table had been set aside for instructors on one side of the room. Several of them were already sitting at it, but the majority of the seats were empty. Following the examples of the boys who were in his room with him, he collected his food and sat down at one of the four tables in the center of the room.

All around him, other students sat and ate their meal while they conversed quietly. Classes, teachers and pranks seemed to make up the majority of the conversation. No one was mentioning anything about a murder. No matter how much he glanced around the room, Ciel could not see anyone that stood out. Most of the students had brown hair, which was invariably kept short. They all wore the same dull suits in similar shades of brown or blue. They were even spaced out evenly along the benches. There was not a single person who stood apart from the others. His sense of unease about the school was quickly returning. The school was quiet and inoffensive. It was so quiet that it was unnatural. It was almost as if no one wanted to be noticed. The entire atmosphere was incredibly bland, rather like the soup they were eating.

As he finished his meal, Ciel followed the examples of the others and disposed of his dish. When he stood up, so did both of the Engles twins. With the three of them heading back to the dorm at the same time, Ciel memorized the way so that he could traverse it on his own next time. The twins led the way. Ciel soon found himself next to his satchel. It was not any later than eight in the evening but the twins were already pulling on their pajamas.

One of the twins reclined on his bed and gave Ciel a catlike grin. "We're going to sneak out later."

"You should come along," said the other, sitting at one of the desks.

Ciel raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do?"

"Oh, this and that," the one on the bed said. "We always sneak out."

"Do you ever get caught?" Ciel asked.

"Not very often," the twin sitting at the desk hopped up and sat next to his brother. "The last time we did, Henry had to recite lines two hundred times, though."

"What did you do?"

The twins looked at one another and fell silent. Ciel eyed them for a moment, but decided not to pursue the inquiry any further. Instead, he looked down at his clothing case. Dressing in front of them would be a challenge. If they asked questions about his eye then they would definitely notice the brand on his back. On top of that, he was adamant that no one but Sebastian would ever see that particular mark. He would make note of what they had said about getting in trouble. Sebastian might have more information for him the next time that he saw him. Perhaps he could use Sebastian's own room as a place to change. He gathered his nightclothes and dressing gown and walked toward the door.

"Where are you going?" the twin that wasn't Henry asked.

Ciel turned slightly to look at him. "I need to see my tutor."

"At this time of night? The teachers won't like it."

"Weren't you the one who was just talking about sneaking out later?" Ciel opened the door and walked out. "It doesn't matter."

~

Even though Ciel had no idea where the tutors were housed, his lack of information did not matter. Fifteen feet from his door, Sebastian was walking towards him. The butler stopped when he saw Ciel emerge from the dorm room. "Good evening, young master."

"Sebastian," Ciel said. "I assume you learned something."

"A little, yes. However, perhaps you would like to discuss that as you get changed for bed?"

Ciel looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering how Sebastian had deduced his intentions. Sebastian gestured towards Ciel's arms. "You are carrying your change of clothing, young master. With so many others in your room, I wondered if you might run into a situation like this. Are you enjoying your new friends?"

"I don't have friends," Ciel huffed. "Where is your room?"

"Right this way," Sebastian said. He turned and headed back down the hallway that he had come from.

Sebastian's room was neither as large nor as nicely furnished as the dorm that Ciel was situated in. Barely more than a closet, it housed minimal furnishings. Aside from a small bed, there was a wooden chair and a stand that held a basin and pitcher as well as an oil lamp. Off to one side, a small chest of drawers provided room for clothing. The walls were a dingy off-white. A tiny mirror hung forlornly over the basin. The only good thing about the room was that it was the only doorway in the corridor. The reason for the obscure location was fairly obvious. Though it was a bedroom at the current moment, it still smelled strongly of lye soap. The quarters had been previously used as a storage closet. Leading the way into the room, Sebastian held the door open for Ciel to enter.

"I believe that several of the closets and storage rooms were turned into living quarters for tutors and the like shortly after the murders began. The headmaster felt that having more adults on the grounds might help the students to feel safe," Sebastian said as Ciel wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell.

"I didn't overhear any of the students talking about the murders at dinner," Ciel said as Sebastian closed the door and began to help him undress for bed. "I find that odd."

"It is not as unusual as you may think, young master," Sebastian said. "The instructors and tutors have been asked not to inform the students of the incidents."

Ciel raised an eyebrow. That explained why none of the students were talking about it, but whoever had given that direction was clearly delusional. The instant a student received a letter from their parents asking about the incidents or picked up a newspaper then they would certainly find out. It was bizarre that the silence had been maintained for an entire month. "None of the students have realized that six of their instructors and classmates have gone missing?"

Sebastian shuffled Ciel's nightshirt down his body and began to fasten the buttons. "If any of the students ask or are told about the incidents by outside sources, they are told that the students have simply decided to attend another institution. I was told of this while I was investigating the students and staff this evening."

"What else did you find out?"

"In the past month since the murders have begun, there have been six students who have been repeatedly reprimanded for unseemly behavior. There is one staff member who had ties with an occult group, however it would seem that he has not been affiliated with them for nearly three decades."

"Only six? Who are they and why were they disciplined?" Ciel raised his arms up as Sebastian finished buttoning his nightshirt and slid the dressing gown over his arms, tying it at his waist. Sebastian stood up and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

"There were only six who had been disciplined more than once, yes. It's a small number for a school this size, but not entirely out of the ordinary," Sebastian said. His eyes drifted down to the piece of paper and he began to read off the names. "Benjamin Langley, who was disciplined for setting fires. Andrew Evans, who was disciplined for theft and cruelty toward other students. Thomas Fairway, who repeatedly engaged in criminal mischief. Edward Crowley, disciplined for lascivious behavior and cruelty toward other students. Adam O'Neil, who apparently left the school grounds during lessons and vandalized the headmaster's office. And lastly, John Meriwether, who has repeatedly destroyed school property."

"Andrew Evans is in the room that I am staying in," Ciel said. "We will need to keep an eye on the students that are on the list while we investigate. What is the name of the instructor who was involved in the occult?"

"Miles Castile. There is one other thing that you may find interesting."

Ciel looked at Sebastian. "What is that?"

"Benjamin Langley and Adam O'Neil were two of the murder victims."

Ciel frowned. "I was under the impression that the victims that had been found at the school had primarily been adults. Instructors."

"I do not recall saying that, young master," Sebastian said. "All but one of the victims have been students of the school."

"Who was the one?"

"A tutor that was here with one of the students. The tutor's name was Charles Clifford. He was the tutor for Frank Oswald, one of the older students at the school."

"Do any of the victims have any other ties?"

Sebastian picked up Ciel's clothing from the day and carefully folded it. "None that I have been able to find."

"Very well," Ciel sighed. "There isn't anything else to be done tonight. I'm going back to my room."

"As you wish."

Ciel turned the door nob and stepped out of the room. Sebastian followed him to the doorway. "Young master?"

"What is it?" Ciel turned to look at Sebastian.

Sebastian smiled at him. "Rest well."

Memories from that morning flooded into Ciel's mind. He felt himself blush as he remembered waking up with his arms around Sebastian's neck. Unable to formulate a response, he nodded to Sebastian and then turned to head back towards his dorm.

~

The next week passed completely uneventfully. Ciel's classes were not all that different from his normal sessions with a tutor aside from the fact that there were more students. During his time outside of the classroom he spent every moment observing the other students and looking for information. Aside from what Sebastian had discovered on the first day, though, neither the butler nor his master were able to find any new information. The students who had been previously disciplined had acted no differently from any of the other students, at least the ones that Ciel had seen.

Ciel was not satisfied with what he had observed of them. After all, he only ran into two of them throughout the course of most days. One of the boys had not been in class for the entire week. Sebastian had already looked into the families and histories of the surviving four troublemakers. Only two had anything unusual in their families and in both cases it was a dead parent. The suspicious instructor with cult ties seemed harmless enough and had an alibi for all of the murders. There was nothing to be learned from the locations where the bodies had been discovered, either. It was simply the middle of the school's lawn. The only remarkable part about the dumped bodies was the fact that someone had managed to place a corpse out in the open on the grounds without being seen.

The hopes that Ciel had about being able to resolve the matter quickly by being at the school were falling. Being closer to the crime scene, and therefore the murderer, should have allowed him to find the culprit quickly and dispose of the person or persons. With Sebastian's help, things like this typically only took a day or two at most. Information was rarely this difficult to come by. The number of students added to the difficulties. Even the local constabulary seemed to know nothing more than the basics of the situation. All that they were finding were dead ends that led to more dead ends.

On the eighth day of his stay, Ciel dressed himself and headed towards his history lesson. He had learned to wake up earlier than the other boys in his room to avoid having the brand on his back seen. It was easier to do that than to hunt Sebastian down every morning. Though, grudgingly, he still wished Sebastian would have helped him. Somehow, it seemed to take much longer to get everything buttoned and smoothed out on his own.

The hallways were always unnaturally empty, filling only when classes were scheduled. Occasionally he would pass a group of two or three students that were headed in the other direction but he never seemed to see any heading towards the same part of the school. This morning was no exception. His footfalls echoed off the walls as he paced down the corridors. When he reached the classroom, another student and a tall man were standing in front of the door. The boy turned to look at him as he approached. Clearing his throat, the boy said, "The class has been canceled. It will resume tomorrow. Simmons has fallen ill."

"Ah," Ciel said, looking back at him. Several inches taller than Ciel, the boy had a chubby face and dark eyes. While most of the students dressed well, this young man wore an exceptionally nice brown suit. His crisp white suit shirt was fastened very close to his neck with a black tie. Ciel had never seen him before. "Are you in this class? We haven't met."

"Oh, only sometimes." The boy smiled. "Today, I just needed to speak with Simmons. I'm Edward, by the way. Edward Crowley."

"Ciel Phantomhive," Ciel accepted a handshake that was offered. Edward Crowley was one of the students that had been on the list that Sebastian had given him. He had not run into him because of differing schedules, or so he had assumed. Ciel looked at the reedy, nervous looking man that stood behind Edward and arched an eyebrow. "And this is...?"

"Oh, how rude of me. Please excuse my manners. This is my tutor, Basil Rosier." Edward stepped out of the way and Rosier inclined his head slightly towards Ciel. Ciel nodded politely in return. When Sebastian had drawn up personal histories and family information on the troublesome students, he had no mentioned anything about one of them having a private tutor. Perhaps Rosier was recently hired. Edward straightened his tie and looked over at his tutor. "Well, we had better be going, Basil. I'll see you later, Phantomhive."

"Wait," Ciel said quickly before Edward could walk away. He needed to find out why this was the first time he was meeting Edward Crowley, if they were in the same class. That fact stood out in his mind. After all, Edward was the last person on the list that he had not met until now. Why had Crowley been out of class for an entire week? "Were you just needing the book that we are studying from in class?"

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. Thank you, though. I was pulled out of class as a punishment." Edward turned and grinned at Ciel.

Quirking an eyebrow, Ciel asked, "Punishment? What did you do?"

"A little of this and a little of that. The headmaster thinks I'm a bad influence." Edward smiled and waved at Ciel. "I'll leave you to your own business."

With a slight gesture of his hand, Edward turned and walked quickly down the hallway, followed by his tutor. Ciel's eyes followed him. Edward Crowley was a suspicious person, both for his absences and because of his previously unknown tutor. When he had the chance, Ciel knew he would need to ask Sebastian to look into the matter.

Ciel walked toward the door of the classroom. As promised, it was empty. A small note on the door indicated that classes would resume as normal the following day. Ciel turned and began to walk back to his dorm. The meeting with Edward Crowley had been the only truly unusual thing that had happened in the past week. If the rest of what he had found here had not been so incredibly bland, even that would not have stood out as much as it had. He would have to resolve the matter to the Queen's satisfaction before he could return home. At this rate, that was going to take another murder before he would be able to learn anything. That would not be ideal in any way, shape or form.

Pushing open the door to his room, Ciel sighed. It was incredibly dark. The heavy curtains were still pulled over the windows and preventing daylight from entering. That meant that one of the other boys was probably still asleep. He would have to light a lamp. Ciel walked over to his bed and set his bag of books down. He paused when his hand touched the comforter. It was damp. Leaving his books, he walked to one of the desks and lit a lamp. Holding it with one hand, he came back over to the bed and pressed his hand against the material. The dark fabric was definitely wet. He lifted his fingers and rubbed them together, examining them in the light. His eyebrows shot up into his hair as he reached down and pulled back the covers on the bed.

There was blood everywhere. A pile of viscera and gore littered the bed clothes and trailed down the side of the mattress. Behind him, he heard someone scream. There was a dead rabbit in his bed. It's head had been completely severed and now sat on his pillow, staring lifelessly at him. Beside it lay a note. On the paper, in clear red letters, it asked:

_Do you want to play?_


	2. Chapter 2

A flurry of students stood in the hallway outside of Ciel Phantomhive's dorm room. No more than twenty minutes had passed since the earl had discovered the dead rabbit in his bed. It was already becoming difficult to get through the hallway. The teachers had managed to keep the students out of the room and were trying to get the crowd to disperse. News of the gruesome discovery seemed to travel quickly. This was the largest gathering of students that Ciel had seen since arriving at the school, and even then it wasn't a massive crowd. Even so, it was still enough to cause him an inconvenience. He had finally finished speaking with the first instructor that had arrived in the dorm room. Now, he wanted to go speak to Sebastian about it. Ciel pushed and shouldered his way through the other students in the hall, trying to get past the spectators. The other students paid him no mind, shuffling forward in an attempt to get a look at the blood spattered sheets within. Ciel looked up and stopped struggling when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Young master," Sebastian said, looking down at him. Quickly and easily, the butler lead Ciel away from the crowd. Outside of the main hallway that lead to the dorms, the silence came as a relief. "You seem to have had a little bit of excitement. Would you like to get cleaned up?"

"Yes," Ciel responded even as Sebastian turned a corner and walked down the corridor that lead to his room. Ciel looked down at the blood on his hands and sleeves. The mess bothered him, but there were other reasons for needing privacy as well. The dead rabbit was the first real new potential source of information that they had discovered since their arrival. Once inside of Sebastian's room, the butler made quick work of removing his master's soiled jacket and shirt. Ciel sat down on the bed as he watched Sebastian fill the wash basin with water and pick up a sponge to clean his hands off with. "I take it you already know what happened."

"You found a dead rabbit in your bed, if the rumors are to be believed," Sebastian said, kneeling on the floor in front of the bed. He picked up Ciel's right hand and began wiping the rabbit blood off of the skin. Ciel was surprised to see just how much was going onto the sponge. He hadn't realized there had been so much of it. Sebastian continued, "However, you are not the only one who found a gift in your room this morning."

"Someone else had a dead rabbit turn up in their belongings?"

"A dead pheasant, but the similarities are obvious. The student who received it is named Alexander Mosley, two years younger than yourself." Sebastian wrung out the wet sponge and toweled Ciel's hand off before moving to the other hand.

Ciel watched him, considering what he had just been told. "I know that the murder victims also found dead animals in their rooms and things. What were the animals?" "There were two additional rabbits, an additional pheasant and three quail."

"They are all game animals," Ciel said. "Whoever is doing this apparently considers themselves a hunter."

"Perhaps, but they're apparently hunting larger game than quail, young master." Sebastian finished cleaning his master's hands and stood to place the basin in its usual location. He also removed a clean shirt and jacket from the chest of drawers.

Ciel was incredibly frustrated. They had been there for more than a week and hadn't found anything that pointed toward anyone as a culprit. There weren't even clues that could lead them in the wrong direction. There was simply nothing to be found. All that they had was the strangely small list of school miscreants that caused trouble. That wasn't terribly helpful, but it was a starting point. Perhaps he would get lucky and the perpetrator had decided to stick around to see the reaction. "Sebastian, were any of the students on that list of troublemakers outside of my room this morning?"

"Yes. There were two of the boys from the list standing outside of your door this morning. Please stand up, young master." Ciel stood and held his arms out as Sebastian slid the clean shirt over them. The butler knelt down and began to button the shirt. "Both Andrew Evans and Edward Crowley were in the hallway with the group of observers for some time." Edward Crowley. Ciel recalled the name from meeting him outside of the classroom not an hour before. He also remembered the nervous tutor that had been accompanying him. "Did any of the boys on that list have a tutor or private instructor?"

"No, not at all. Why do you ask, young master?"

"I ran into Edward Crowley this morning," Ciel said as Sebastian slid a jacket over his shoulders and began to fasten it. "He was accompanied by a tutor named Basil Rosier. You didn't see anything about a private tutor for him when you looked into the boys on the list?"

"No," Sebastian looked up at him, an eyebrow raised skeptically. "Edward Crowley did not have a tutor."

Ciel stared down at him for a moment. It was very unlike Sebastian to miss a detail like that, even when doing a cursory search for information. "I want you to look into both Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier. Find everything you can."

"Very well," Sebastian said, standing up and gathering the dirty clothing.

"Why was he in the hall outside of my room?" Talking mostly to himself, Ciel stared at the wall as he considered the situation. After meeting Edward Crowley that morning, he had watched the other student turn down the hall in the direction leading away from the dorms. So, how had he come to be standing in front of Ciel's door only a matter of minutes later?

"Perhaps he was heading to the lavatory to wash the rabbit blood off of his sleeve," Sebastian suggested.

"What?" Ciel looked up sharply.

"Edward Crowley had a small amount of rabbit blood on the right hand sleeve of his jacket this morning when he was in the hallway outside of your room," Sebastian said. "However, were it anyone but myself, I doubt that they would have noticed."

"Why didn't you mention that earlier?" Ciel glared.

Sebastian smiled. "You did not ask, my lord."

Ciel wondered idly if Sebastian was trying to be as frustrating as possible. Sighing, he concluded that it didn't matter. Sebastian would get the information and that was the important part. However, while he was doing that, there were things that Ciel would need to do. On top of that, he needed to inquire about where he would sleep at the end of the day. The mattress in his dorm room was being replaced, but the replacement would not arrive until the next morning at the earliest. That problem, at least, was easily solved. "Sebastian, I will sleep in here tonight."

"As you wish, young master." It wasn't as though the demon was actually planning on using the bed. Even so, Ciel needed to let one of the instructors know so that his dorm mates didn't report him to the teachers as having not returned to the room that night.

"I will return in one hour. In that time, complete your research on Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier," Ciel said. He stood up and walked to the door.

"Yes, my lord."

~

The hallway outside of Ciel's dorm was finally free of spectators. Ciel's roommates had apparently taken advantage of that fact to make their way to classes or whatever else they had to take care of. Inside, Ciel glanced at his bed. For the time being, it was covered with a large blanket. On first glance, no one would be able to tell what he had discovered there. Walking past the bed, Ciel collected the rest of his school books and a spare pair of shoes. Attending classes wasn't absolutely necessary and even seemed like a waste of time. However, he wanted the other students to believe that he really was just there to learn. In a way, he was. Just not about history, politics or religion.

Walking around the bed, Ciel looked at the wood of the frame and the floor beneath it. There was nothing to indicate anyone else's presence. There were no scratches in the surface, no smeared blood. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Sebastian had told him that Edward Crowley had rabbit blood on his sleeve. Ciel was quite certain that Crowley had not been inside of his room after the rabbit had been found. The fact that he had blood on his sleeve was suspicious, to say the least, but it wasn't exactly damning evidence.

It was true that there weren't really many other reasons for Edward Crowley to come into contact with rabbit blood. Crowley was a troublemaker and known nuisance, but theft hadn't been on his list of transgressions. Still, it was possible that he had broken into the dorm at some point before the rabbit had been found. All of the boys sharing the quarters were affluent. Many of their personal belongings were valuable. However, Crowley was also well off. There would be no reason to steal aside from the sheer thrill of it. Even then, why would he be looking at the bed? Hunting was also not a possibility, as it wasn't allowed on the school grounds. No matter what explanation Ciel thought of, there was only reason he could find for Crowley having rabbit blood on his sleeve. At some point, Edward Crowley had come in contact with the dead animal that had made its way into Ciel's bed.

It was logical to assume that Edward Crowley had placed the rabbit in the bed, based on that information. At the same time, the rabbit was the only thing that Ciel could be even mildly certain of. The murders were another issue all together. Moving a dead body all the way out to the lawn of the school was not something that someone the size of Edward Crowley could do on their own. Especially not without leaving drag marks, damage to the body or damage to the lawn itself. Yet, there was nothing like that at the school to indicate how the bodies made their way onto the lawn. If Edward Crowley was responsible for more than the dead animals, he was not working alone.

There was nothing else to be learned from the dorm room. Ciel turned and walked out. He quickly made his way down the hall and found one of the instructors. After letting them know that he would be sleeping in Sebastian's quarters, and also telling them that his tutor had taken a room in town for the night, he walked straight to Sebastian's room. The hour that he had given Sebastian wasn't even nearly up. He raised a hand to knock on the door. Even before his knuckles struck wood, it swung open and Sebastian motioned for him to come in. "What did you find out about Edward Crowley?" Ciel walked inside and set his belongings on the bed before turning to look at Sebastian.

Sebastian closed the door behind his master and turned to face the bed. "Like many of the students at this school, Edward Crowley comes from a relatively wealthy family. Their wealth stems from the fact that they previously owned a family business, a brewery called Crowley's Ales. The business was sold some years ago, however, and the majority of the profits are what now fund Mr. Crowley's more scholarly ambitions. He comes from a religions family. His father was previously employed as a member of the clergy for an obscure Christian sect. "Two years ago, Edward Crowley Senior passed away. I was told that, at this point, Edward Crowley Junior began to act strangely. His mother was disconcerted by his behavior and sent him to Ebor School, in Cambridge. It is a religious establishment. I take it that she hoped that it might fix whatever problems she found."

"He obviously isn't there now," Ciel said. "Did he leave on his own or was he expelled?"

"He was expelled," Sebastian replied.

"What reason did they give for the expulsion?"

"The school records were actually rather vague on that particular point. I was able to discover that he was expelled for corrupting another student, but no details were recorded after the incident."

Ciel sighed and sat down on the bed. "And after an expulsion like that, he wound up here."

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian said.

"What did you find out about Basil Rosier?" Ciel asked.

"Nothing."

Ciel looked up at Sebastian. "Excuse me?"

"Young master, while I was very thorough with my efforts to find information," Sebastian began, face serious, "I was unable to find any information on anyone by the name of Basil Rosier. Neither Edward Crowley nor his family employ a private tutor. There are no monthly expenditures from either party to cover the cost of such a thing. Following the name, I was able to find one Basil Rosier in the area. However, he is an eighty year old vicar. I am assuming that is not who you meant."

"No," Ciel said. "The Basil Rosier I met was a young man in his twenties or thirties."

Sebastian nodded in acknowledgement. "On the off chance that it was an alias, I researched use of the name. However, the name Basil Rosier is not a known alias for anyone, criminal r otherwise. While I suspected that perhaps the young master had misheard the name, several other students were able to confirm both the name and the presence of the tutor. Even so, I have not been able to find any information on him. By all appearances, aside from the people who have seen him, it would appear that Basil Rosier does not exist. I am sorry."

Ciel stared at Sebastian, dumbfounded. Sebastian had never failed to find information before. Even though this sort of thing wasn't usually his domain, he did well enough when the need arose. They were too far from London to ask the Undertaker or Lau to find information for them. Sebastian should have done better than either, at any rate. And yet, the butler had found absolutely nothing. This had never happened before. "Did you speak to Crowley directly at all?"

"Yes," Sebastian said. "He was alone at the time."

Ciel considered that carefully. "Does Edward Crowley have an alibi for any of the murders?"

"No. Like many of the other students, he claims that he was asleep in his dorm."

Ciel nodded. He had expected as much. "Do you know where he spends his time when he is not in class?"

"Yes," Sebastian replied. "He is most frequently seen in the school library."

Nodding, Ciel stood up from where he had been sitting. It was information that they were lacking. If even Sebastian was having a hard time getting what they needed then there was really only one option left. Ciel would go straight to the source.

~

The library at Tonbridge School was every bit as impressive as the rest of the school. Massive wooden doors lead the way into a two storey room that was completely encircled in books. Two iron staircases spiraled up to the second level, which hung out over shelves filled with even more volumes. On either side of the library, two rows of desks were lit by lamps and the sunlight that filtered in through windows built into the walls. Just inside of the door to the library, a stern looking librarian sorted books on a desk that was several sizes too large for the work required of it. Since it was the middle of the day, the library was nearly deserted. A few of the older students browsed books or sat on chairs to the side, perusing the pages of various tomes. It was all too easy for Ciel to spot his target. Edward Crowley stuck out like a sore thumb, not in the least because of the tall, pale man beside him.

Even before approaching, Ciel took note of Basil Rosier's appearance. If he had to give a description to Sebastian, it would help if he could at least be thorough. He should have just had Sebastian accompany him, but he didn't feel that it was necessary to go back for him now. Instead, Ciel focused on the task at hand. Sebastian was a tall man, but Basil Rosier stood nearly half a foot taller than he did. Despite his height, he was very thin. Even his face was gaunt. His prominent cheek bones and sharp nose stood out even more on his face due to his sickly pallor. Though very pale, his skin was flushed as though he were running a fever. He looked like someone who was recovering from a serious illness. Even without his height and mealy appearance, he would have stood out at the school. Where his pupil and most of the other students had brown or black hair and eyes, Basil Rosier had hair the color of corn silk, offset by green eyes. Most of the other tutors and instructors were never seen without a suit jacket and tie. Rosier wore only slacks, a button down shirt and a sweater vest. He looked very out of place. Perhaps that was why he was continuously fidgeting and looking around as though he thought someone was going to jump out at him.

In front of Basil Rosier, Edward Crowley was seated at a desk and flipping idly through large book. He paid no mind to anyone else in the library. Ciel walked directly from the library doors over to where he was seated and sat down at the desk directly next to him. Crowley looked up, momentarily puzzled. When he saw who was sitting next to him, he smiled broadly. His voice was quiet, due to being in the library, but he still seemed to be quite pleased to have the company. "Phantomhive. I heard that you had a bit of excitement this morning."

"A bit, yes," Ciel said, returning the smile with a smirk. "Someone left a bit of a mess in my bed."

"Someone told me that it was a dead rabbit. Was that much true?" Edward Crowley watched him with interest.

"Well, parts of a dead rabbit. I would like to find out who was responsible for it," Ciel said, watching Crowley's face as he spoke. The smile on the other boy's face faltered slightly at the comment. His expression became unreadable. Ciel continued, "I really admire them."

Crowley arched an eyebrow and leaned back casually in the wooden chair. "Why would you admire someone who did something like that?"

"That takes a lot of courage," Ciel said. Courage was one for it. Insanity was a better word, but he doubted that honesty would help him out in this instance. "And they also left a note for me. Very dramatic, I must say. They have an artistic touch. I rather like that." Ciel took a breath and sat back in his chair, mimicking Crowley's casual pose. There was no use beating around the bush. "So, is that the sort of trouble that you were talking about this morning?"

For the smallest fraction of a second, Edward Crowley's eyes flicked towards Basil Rosier. Then, he looked back towards Ciel. "Why would you say that?"

"Call it a hunch."

Crowley looked at him dubiously for a moment, as if trying to gauge his intentions. Then, he sighed dramatically. "Fine. I admit it. You caught me. However, placing dead animals in bedrooms is nothing but a childish prank, you know. I am afraid that we have higher aspirations than that."

Ciel sat forward in his seat, one eyebrow raised curiously. He hadn't really expected Crowley to admit to putting the rabbit in his room, let alone that casually. "'We'? What sort of aspirations are you talking about?"

Crowley shrugged and then looked thoughtful for a moment. When he spoke, his words seemed almost unrelated to the previous topic. "There are things that schools like this cannot offer me no matter how hard I work. They expect so little of the world. Have you ever felt like that?"

"Yes," Ciel replied. The conversation was beginning to take a strange turn. He would let Crowley tell him whatever it was that he wanted.

"Tell me, Phantomhive," Crowley said, "if you could have one thing in the world, anything at all, what would it be?"

"Revenge." Ciel didn't even bother with lying.

"Something so petty?" Crowley said skeptically. "You need to look at the bigger picture."

"The bigger picture?" Ciel asked.

"Well, look at it this way. Revenge is just one thing, isn't it?"

"Of course," Ciel said. "However, you did say 'if you could have one thing'."

"Yes, I did. However, why would you take the most direct course when there is another way that would let you do so much more?" Edward Crowley's face was lit up with excitement as he spoke, as if he were thoroughly enjoying a party rather than a hushed conversation in a school library. It was rather unnerving.

"What are you talking about?" Ciel's patience was beginning to wear thin.

"Power," Crowley said simply. He grinned, settling back in his chair once more. "With revenge, you only accomplish revenge. With power, you can have your revenge and anything else that you desire. Anything at all."

Ciel went stock still. He had come to the library hoping to find information that might lead him to pinpoint Edward Crowley as possible culprit for the crimes. He had also hoped that he might be able to find out more about Rosier, or at least other parties that might have been involved as well. After all, acting out against someone on the flimsy pointers that he and Sebastian had gathered in a single day was risky at best. In addition to the slightly sarcastic confession about the animals, he seemed to be getting more than he had bargained for here as well. Something wasn't right. "What kind of power?"

"The sort that this school doesn't even begin to provide for," Crowley said. Sitting up a bit straighter, he adjusted his tie. "There are things that I would like to accomplish and that no book... well, most books... will not help with."

Ciel chose his words carefully as he responded, trying to sound interested as he did so. "I can imagine. You can accomplish anything if you have power. Knowledge is power, but why stop there?"

"Precisely." Crowley nodded, obviously approving. "And here at this school, some of us have found a better way to get that power. A better way to achieve our ambitions, you might say."

"A better way? What is that?"

Edward Crowley leaned forward a bit in his chair. "Tell me, are you a religious man?"

"No," Ciel responded honestly. Religion had little meaning for one whose soul would be devoured at the end of his life. Yet again, the conversation had taken a sharp turn. He raised an eyebrow and resettled himself in the wooden chair.

Crowley considered this for a moment before speaking again. "We have a sort of ceremony, I suppose you could call it. A very interesting one. Normally, I wouldn't tell anyone straight out like this, but... well, I like you, Phantomhive. I think you have potential."

The way he said potential was enough to send chills down Ciel's spine. It didn't sound like a good thing when said in that particular tone of voice, dripping with implications. When he didn't respond, Edward Crowley continued. "We only do it once a week or so, but I think that I'd like for you to come see. It might be to your liking."

"I am very curious," Ciel said.

"We're holding one tonight, actually. You should come."

"Where?"

"Why don't you meet me here at seven, and I'll lead you the rest of the way?" Crowley smiled pleasantly.

Ciel nodded. "That would be agreeable."

"This will be interesting." Edward Crowley got to his feet, closing the book on the desk. He took a step away and then turned back to face Ciel once more. "Oh, and one last thing."

"What is it?"

"Make certain that you come alone and are not followed. Do not bring anyone else. Make no mistake, I will know if you do." Crowley's eyes had lost all of the warm enthusiasm he had while talking about power. "Not even your most interesting tutor."

~

Ciel walked back toward Sebastian's dorm. His mind ran over every detail of the strange conversation that had just taken place in the library. He had expected to get a new lead. Something he could use to finish this miserable business. Instead, he had gotten an invitation. It wasn't even a well disguised invitation. Could it really be possible that he had just been invited to witness the activities of the very cult group that he had been sent here to eliminate? When something sounded too good to be true, it usually was. The entire situation coming together in such a short amount of time that it was ridiculous. He hadn't even really had to put up a front. All he had done was sit down and Edward Crowley had given him what he had wanted.

Reaching up, Ciel knocked on the wooden door that lead into Sebastian's room. It slid open easily and Sebastian bowed as he gestured for Ciel to enter the room. "Welcome back, young master."

"I was able to find Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier in the library," Ciel said. "I want you to look into Basil Rosier again. He shouldn't be hard to find out about, especially for someone like you. I figured a description might help you out, since his name isn't helping. He's very tall, very thin, pale and blond. Very sharp facial features. People will have noticed him. He also dresses very casually. I'm rather surprised that they're allowing him to walk around on the campus dressed like that."

"Very well," Sebastian said. "Were you able to find out what you had hoped, young master?"

Rather than continuing to stand just inside of the doorway, Ciel sat down on the wooden chair in the room. "I believe I have received an invitation to a meeting of the very cult we are having to investigate."

"That is most unexpected," Sebastian said, raising an eyebrow. "In that case, we can..."

"No," Ciel said.

"Young master?"

"I am going alone," Ciel said, crossing his arms. "Something isn't right about this, and I was warned to go alone. I think that, in this case, I will do so. We can't risk ruining this opportunity."

"Young master, if something happens and you-" Sebastian frowned heavily at him, turning to face him.

"Sebastian, I am fully capable of handling this without your help." Ciel looked up at him. "Something isn't right with Edward Crowley. He knew that I had a tutor, and seemed to suspect something was off about you. I'm not going to miss this opportunity. I'll take the pistol with me, so it's not like I'll be defenseless. If something happens, I'll call for you. You can come quickly if I need you, right? So, there are no problems."

"Have you considered the possibility that the dead animals and a subsequent invitation may be how they find their victims, young master?" Sebastian's voice was firm, even as he turned his back and continued organizing a load of laundry that he was placing into the chest of drawers. "You may find yourself in a situation which you are ill equipped to deal with."

"Are you saying that you think I'll wind up getting myself killed, thus costing you a meal? Keeping me alive is part of our contract, after all," Ciel said, his voice cuttingly direct.

"That is not what I meant," Sebastian said quietly. He placed a folded shirt into a drawer and turned to look at Ciel. His voice was louder when he spoke again. "I simply wished to say that it is unlike my young master to not utilize all of the tools at his disposal."

Ciel regarded him dubiously. He was annoyed with the demon even though he was well aware that Sebastian was right. Walking in alone was stupid and risky. The conversation with Edward Crowley had unnerved him a bit. Especially when the other student had mentioned Sebastian. Sebastian had said himself that he had met Crowley. Crowley also hadn't said anything to directly imply that he had known that Sebastian was not just a simple tutor. It was the wait that he had said it that made Ciel feel uneasy. "You ill stay in your room until I call for you, Sebastian. That is an order."

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian bowed. Ciel huffed, looking away. He hated conversations like this. It was definitely going to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

~

Shortly before the appointed time, Ciel walked down the hallways that lead from Sebastian's room to the library. Due to the lateness of the hour, the library was already closed. However, Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier were waiting for him in the hallway outside. The contrast between Crowley's darker figure and the pale man behind him were startling. As Ciel approached, Crowley smiled broadly. "I knew you would come, Phantomhive. Are you ready to get going?"

"Of course," Ciel said. "Lead the way."

The three of them walked down a series of hallways for nearly a quarter of an hour. More than once, they doubled back or went a way that Ciel could have sworn they had already passed through. If they were trying to confuse him, it was working. The fact that he wasn't familiar with most of the school wasn't helping matters. Eventually, they paused in front of a worn-out looking wooden door. Ciel presumed that it opened on a storage closet, but when Basil Rosier pulled it open he could see a flight of stairs. Rosier lit a candle and closed the door after them, leading the way down the steps. There were more than Ciel had originally guessed. The room at the bottom was pitch black. It smelled of mold. The three of them began walking, the two boys following the tall figure in front of them. The candle light was dim, but it illuminated stacks of chairs and disused mattresses and tables on the edge of the path that they walked along. This was a storage area for school furnishings. It appeared to be in a state of severe neglect.

At the end of the path, they came upon another door. Unlike the last door they had passed through, this one was finely carved from a thick, hard wood. Undoubtedly, it had originally been placed in this section of the school to keep moisture out of the room behind it. Ciel wondered what it was intended to keep out - or in - now.

"You will want this," Crowley said, handing a bundle of cloth to Ciel.

Ciel shook it out and stared at it in the dim light. "What is this for?"

"Not everyone here is as... forward thinking as you and I, Phantomhive. They prefer their privacy. It's only polite to follow suit, don't you think?" Crowley smirked. "I may not get another chance to talk to you before tomorrow. If that's the case, I will see you in the morning. I am so very, very interested in seeing what you think. Well, let's go."

Ciel pulled the cloak over his head. Rosier pulled the door open and they stepped inside. The very first thing that Ciel noticed was the smell. It smelled like incense and licorice. Sickeningly sweet and so thick that it made it difficult to breathe. Like the room before, this one was also dark. Pinpoints of light, candles, lit the room up from the periphery. The darkness that had been there on first glance was even more menacing when Ciel realized what he was seeing. It wasn't the blackness of the room but the blackness of cloaks, exactly like he was wearing. He had assumed that there were five or ten people involved in the murders and the cult. Inside of this room, the number had to be over fifty. There were people of all heights - students of all ages, he presumed, and possibly even instructors. They were all standing in a semi-circle around the front of the room. Ciel pushed his way through the crowd, trying to look at the faces under the hoods even as he moved to see what they were looking at. When he finally reached the front of the group, he felt his breath catch in his chest.

There was a table in the front of the room. Roughly hewn from some unfinished wood, it was shaped like a cross. Religious symbolism seemed to have little to do with the shape, however. Instead, its practical purposes were obvious. On top of the table, the body of a young boy was tied down with ropes. Alexander Mosley, the student who had received the dead pheasant that morning. His entire body was covered in bruises and blood with barely an inch of it clean. Ciel couldn't tell whether or not he was still breathing. He looked dead. Little trails of blood trickled down from the large gash on the side of his head, hitting the wood table with an audible dripping sound.

From the side of the room, Basil Rosier walked up to the head of the table. Unlike all of those gathered in the room, he wasn't wearing a cloak. He set the candle that he was carrying on a stand next to the table, illuminating the boy in front of it. He wasn't trembling or nervous any more. In the harsh light of the room, he looked terrifying. His sharp features were thrown into sharp relief, making him look like a living skeleton. A smile played across his thin lips as Edward Crowley walked up to stand on the near side of the table. Like Rosier, he wasn't wearing a cloak. In one hand, he carried a long silver knife. "Welcome, friends! A time for celebration is near!"

At that, the entire room burst into loud cheers. All around him, Ciel could feel the shuffle of people bumping into him as they thrust their hands into the air in excitement. Crowley clapped his hands together twice and the entire room fell silent. "Brothers! What are we gathered here for?"

"Power!" The crowd cried in unison.

"Who are we gathered here for?" Crowley asked, excitement evident in his voice.

"The dark one!"

"Yes! I am the voice! I speak for him!" Crowley's voice was louder even than the crowd as he cried out. He lifted the dagger in his hand high above his head so that everyone in the room could see. "We have all gathered here to beg the dark one for his many gifts. Power..."

The congregation muttered, "Power."

"Wealth."

Again, there was a murmur that went around the room. "Wealth."

"And knowledge," Crowley intoned, pausing to let them all repeat the word before he continued. "However, these gifts are not given to us freely. They come at a price. Power demands sacrifice. Shall we give him that sacrifice?"

"Yes!" The cry was a roar from the crowd. Ciel had a very bad feeling. Everything about this room reminded him of where he had been held captive. The smell, the feel of the cobblestone under his feet and the sight of the pale boy covered in blood and tied down to the table. It could have been him two and a half years before. Even though the room all around him was silent, Ciel could almost hear the clanking sound of manacles holding him in a cage as he pressed against cold iron bars. Ciel shook his head, willing the memories to go away. He focused on what was happening right then, even though he found himself having difficulty watching.

Edward Crowley raised the dagger high above his head and brought it down on Alexander Moseley's right arm just below the elbow. Then, Ciel knew that the boy was still alive. As the knife dug into his arm, he screamed. Edward Crowley pulled the blade towards the boy's wrist. The boy's voice was like nails on a chalk board, completely raw and shrill as the blade of the knife cut through skin, veins and tendons. Then, just as quickly as it had started, Crowley pulled the knife out of the child's arm. He lifted the blade in the air so that all of the people gathered around could see the smears of blood that still covered the blade. A droplet fell off, hitting Crowley's cheek. He laughed.

This was too much. Ciel felt ill, his stomach turning at the sight of the young boy on the table. Even from where he was standing, Ciel could hear him whimpering and crying out. He should call for Sebastian. The butler had been right; this was more than he could handle. This was a different kind of danger than what he had been expecting. His pistol wouldn't help him here. His feet seemed to be rooted to the ground, though, and he couldn't seem to say Sebastian's name. All that he could do was watch as Edward Crowley paced around to the other side of the table. "Power corrupts. What is the heart of corruption?"

"Wealth!" The roar of the crowd was louder than ever.

"Why do you desire wealth?"

"To gain power!"

Edward Crowley drove the knife into Alexander Moseley's left arm. The child was screaming once more, crying out for his mother. His small body shook with the pain even as he struggled against the ropes. Whimpers of pain and wordless pleas to stop when unnoticed by everyone in the room. Ciel found himself unable to take his eyes off the face of the boy. Little by little, Crowley worked the blade towards the child's wrist, cutting through delicate tissue as blood ran down the sides of the boys arm. Crowley's eyes were completely fixed on the edge of the weapon, lips twisted up in a gruesome smile. He was enjoying this.

He pulled the blade from the boy's arm and slowly began to walk back around to the other side of the table. As he walked, he spoke. "You desire power and wealth. Both of these things corrupt, and yet there is one thing that can give you both. It is free from corruption. What is that one thing?"

"Knowledge!" The sound of the crowd could barely cover the sound of the screaming boy on the table. The sight was so close to everything that Ciel remembered that it almost felt as if the brand on his back was burning once more. Instead of hearing the people around him, he was hearing the sounds of people who had been dead since that very last night. Every hooded cloak was replaced with masks. Faceless terrors who had forced him down and done unspeakable things to him time and time again. Pain, humiliation and terror. It didn't matter that he was not the boy on the table. It was almost as if he could feel the pain himself.

Slowly, Edward Crowley reached up and pushed the cloth of the boy's shirt aside, leaving his chest bare. It was already spattered with blood and shallow cuts, evidence of earlier entertainments. "Why do you want knowledge?"

"Power!"

"What must we do to gain power?" Crowley's voice was ecstatic. "Tell me!"

"Sacrifice!"

Ciel barely heard the word over the sounds of the child screaming in front of him. As he watched, Basil Rosier leaned over the table and pressed his lips to those of the small boy in front of him, as if kissing him. At that moment, Edward Crowley lifted the dagger and brought it down on Alexander Moseley's chest. The blade sunk deep into flesh. There was a short, harsh gurgling sound. Then, the screaming stopped. On the table, the body twitched. Feet and hands flexed mindlessly for a moment and then went still.

All around him, cheers erupted and joyful shouts went up from the crowd. Ciel felt nauseas. He couldn't take any more of this. Stumbling and pushing his way through the pulsing crowd, he found his way back to the massive door that had lead into the room. Leaning all of his weight against it, he forced it open far enough to slide out into the damp mustiness of the storage room outside. The door closed behind him. He fell onto his knees and vomited. Even if the room hadn't been pitch black, he wouldn't have been able to see straight. He collapsed on the ground, leaning against a wall. Barely louder than a whisper, he called, "Sebastian."

Almost instantly, he was surrounded by warm arms pulling him up against a solid chest. Sebastian pressed Ciel up against him as he carried him swiftly back to his room. In the small converted storage room that made up Sebastian's quarters, the butler walked quickly across the floor to the small bed. Sebastian leaned over to set Ciel down on top of the blankets, but paused as Ciel's hands tightened on the lapels of his coat. Instead, the demon sat down on the bed and simply held his master in his lap.

Against his chest, Ciel buried his face in the wool of the jacket, not wanting to move away from the one thing in the entire school that seemed safe at that moment. At any other time, it would have been embarrassing or humiliating to cling so closely to Sebastian. Just then, he didn't care. He was afraid. It was too easy to remember exactly what had happened two and a half years before. He tried to focus on anything but that, but he could still see snippets and flashes. All of it was because of what he had just witnessed. It was as if it had only happened a few days before rather than a couple of years previous. For a moment, he could stay like this. With Sebastian this close, he felt safe. The demon would not let any harm come to him. However, even Sebastian couldn't protect him from his own memories.

Sebastian slowly moved the arm that had been under Ciel's legs and used it to move Ciel to a slightly more comfortable position before winding one arm around the earl's waist. The other was still wrapped around his shoulders, holding him to the demon's chest. Nearly an hour passed and the demon began to wonder if his master had fallen asleep. Ciel hadn't said a word since Sebastian had picked him up. "Young master?"

Ciel's hands tightened on Sebastian's coat. He turned his head to the side, but didn't move away. "They were the ones who committed the murders." His voice was shaking. "They... killed Alexander Mosley. Like it was some sort of show. They watched and the laughed. They enjoyed it."

Without realizing it, Ciel pressed himself closer to Sebastian. The demon watched him with concern. It was rare for Ciel to show emotion. It was rarer still for him to be this badly effected by anything that he had seen. For once, Ciel Phantomhive was clearly shaken. It was disconcerting for him to see his master in such a state. Sebastian had obeyed the order and he had stayed in his quarters until he was summoned. He had hated every minute of it. He did not like knowing that it could very easily have been his young master that had been chosen for the ceremony instead of the unfortunate victim that it was. He hoped that he would have the opportunity t repay the people who had reduced Earl Ciel Phantomhive to this crying child. Sebastian's arms tightened around the form of his young master and he pressed his lips to the top of Ciel's head, breathing in the scent of his hair. It was an unexpected relief, having him there and safe. "What would you like for me to do, young master?"

Ciel went very still as he felt Sebastian's lips against his hair and the way that the demon's arms tightened around him. It felt comforting. He kept leaning against Sebastian's chest for a moment and then pushed away. He sat up a bit more properly in the butler's lap and then looked away. His voice was steadier, but he was very quiet as he spoke. "Nothing tonight. Edward Crowley and his tutor seem to be orchestrating this, but they aren't the only ones involved." He paused, pressing a hand to the side of his face and then running it through his hair, pushing the eye patch away from his face. It fell harmlessly to the floor. Even considering the events of the evening brought up things that he had almost forgotten. He hated that. "We need to know the names of everyone attending those ceremonies."

"What will you do when you finally have all of the names?" Sebastian inquired quietly.

"I will destroy them," Ciel said simply. He leaned forward and sighed. "Sebastian, I'm tired."

"Shall we get you ready for bed, young master?"

"Yes." Ciel slid off of Sebastian's lap and onto the floor, pressing a hand against the wall for support. His legs felt weak. Sebastian stood and quickly retrieved a nightshirt from the chest of drawers. In short order, Sebastian had him dressed and ready for bed. Ordinarily, Ciel's teeth would have been brushed and he would have bathed. Sebastian did not even broach the subject. Instead, Sebastian simply folded down the blankets on the small bed and tucked Ciel in after the boy climbed into the bed. The butler leaned over and picked up the lamp that had been illuminating the room. Ciel couldn't even remember seeing him light it.

"I will return in the morning. Rest well, young master." Sebastian said, bowing slightly. The demon turned and walked toward the door of the room.

"Sebastian," Ciel said.

The demon turned to look back at his master. "Yes, young master?"

"Stay by my side tonight."

"As you wish." Sebastian shortened the wick on the lamp to lower the light and then placed it on top of the wardrobe. Then, he went and sat down in the wooden chair that stood next to the bed. He hadn't realized quite how small the room was until he discovered that just sitting in the chair pushed his legs up against the side of the bed.

Under the blankets, Ciel looked exceptionally small even in comparison to the tiny bed. Face halfway tucked underneath the covers, he looked at Sebastian. The demon looked back at him evenly, offering a soft smile. Ciel felt himself blush under the unwavering gaze. He turned his eyes and looked away. After a moment, he glanced back. Sebastian was still watching him and smiling his mysterious smile. Shyly, Ciel pushed a hand out from under the blankets on the bed and took hold of Sebastian's jacket sleeve, dragging it onto the bed and holding it loosely between his fingers. Sebastian arched an eyebrow questioningly. "Young master?"

"Shut up," Ciel muttered and closed his eyes.

~

The following morning, Ciel walked back to his own room. He needed to get an additional book for the first morning class. In addition to that, he wanted to see if the mattress had been replaced. He was still shaken from the events of the previous day, but he also knew that he wouldn't be able to bring all of this to an end unless he could uncover the entirety of the cult. Crowley was obviously spearheading the murders. However, unless he was thorough, the same thing would happen again even if they managed to take care of Crowley. He was certain of that. In addition to that, nothing but a thorough purging of this particular menace would be worthy of reporting to Queen Victoria. How else would she be able to know that the students at the school were safe? He only wondered how many of those students were involved in the bloody ritual that he had witnessed beneath the school.

As disgusting as it was, Ciel knew what he would have to do. He would have to earn Edward Crowley's trust and get him to reveal everyone that was involved. It would also be useful to learn how, exactly, they selected their victims. He didn't really wonder about why they were doing it. It was called insanity for a reason. 'The dark one' was obviously nothing more than a figment of a deranged mind. One that managed to successfully rally dozens of people and drive them to kill children. Ciel only hoped that he would be able to finish this business before another person was killed, if only so that he wouldn't have to watch something like that again.

Ciel put his hand on the wood of his dorm room door and pushed it open, stepping inside. The mattress on his bed had been replaced and clean blankets and sheets were neatly folded on top of it. He set the books down on top of the mattress and knelt down beside the small suitcase that he had left in the room. He dug through it for the world atlas that he knew was inside. He stood and turned around when he heard footsteps on the wood behind him. Standing just inside of the door was Edward Crowley. "I'm sorry that I missed you last night, Phantomhive. What did you think of our little party?"

"It was interesting," Ciel said, feigning interest. Crowley nudged the door with his elbow and sent it sliding closed. Ciel watched warily. "I'd love to hear more about the dark one you were talking about."

"Oh, is that so? I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed yourself." Crowley crossed his arms and leaned casually against a wall. "Perhaps you'll have even more fun tonight, then. It's such a shame that you left before we could talk last night. I was hoping that you and I could have a little heart-to-heart."

"What do you mean?" Ciel frowned. Suddenly, he became very aware of the fact that something massive was standing behind him. Just as he turned to see what it was, a cloth-covered hand descended over his nose and mouth. For a moment, he recognized the sweet, chemical scent of chloroform. Then, everything faded to black.


	3. Chapter 3

Sebastian lifted a hand and knocked on the wooden door of Ciel's dorm room. It was early afternoon. Classes at the school had ended more than a half hour before. Despite the fact that they had agreed to meet immediately afterward, his young master had not arrived at Sebastian's room at the appointed time. It was entirely possible that his master had been delayed by some menial task or possibly an instructor. However, considering what he had been through the night before, Sebastian found himself reluctant to leave the boy alone for any longer than necessary. The thought of his young master winding up in another situation like that made him uneasy.

The knock on the door sounded hollow even from where he stood in the hallway. There was no answer from within. Reaching down, Sebastian placed his hand on the handle to open the door. Frowning, he realized that the door was already slightly open.

"Young master?" Sebastian pushed the door open further and stepped inside. It was completely silent. None of the students were inside. Something about the room seemed as unusual, amiss. That vague, creeping feeling put Sebastian's senses on alert. While nothing appeared to be out of order, something was definitely wrong. The demon glanced around, wary of anything that might be the cause for his feeling of unease. All of the boys' belongings stood undisturbed. The beds were made and everything seemed to be in its rightful place. Sebastian's eyes traveled to Ciel's own bed. Taking two steps, he walked over and examined it. The covers were neat and tidy. However, there was something sitting on top of them. Ciel's pillow had been propped up against the headboard. On top of the pillow case there was a crisp, white sheet of paper. There were two words printed in bold, red lettering of it:

_We're waiting._

Above the note there was a small rounded square of stiffened black velvet. Sebastian reached down and picked it up. It was his young master's eye patch. The strings had been neatly folded and tucked underneath the curved material. The fabric was damp. Sebastian pulled his fingers away and looked at them. Blood.

In that instant, he knew exactly what had happened. His master was in grave danger. Concern for his young master and the chilling realization that he had not been at the boy's side when he needed him coursed through him. Why had his young master not called for him? It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the fact that something had gone very, very wrong. There was little time to act. There was one good thing about this, however. He was absolutely certain that he knew exactly where he needed to go. Turning, Sebastian left the dorm room as quickly as possible and hurried through the hallways towards his master.

~

The room that Sebastian had found his young master in the night before was every bit as dank and musty as it had been at that time. The air now smelled metallic, tinged with vomit and blood. Around the edges of the room, he could hear the sounds of rodents scurrying in the darkness and nibbling on the discarded furnishings that resided in the belly of the school. At any other time, he might have been disgusted with the lack of pride that the school took in their belongings. For now, his attention was elsewhere.

Sebastian had noticed the ornately carved door that seemed so out of place in this section of the building when he had gathered Ciel into his arms the night before. Now, the door stood open by nearly an inch. From inside, the faint glow of candles could be seen. The quiet murmur of voices easily reached his ears. Without a second thought, Sebastian pulled the door open further and stepped inside. The sight that greeted him was enough to stop him in his tracks.

Directly in Sebastian's line of sight was a roughly hewn wooden table in the shape of a cross. The room was larger than Sebastian would have expected, nearly fifty feet across, and the table had been placed at the front, toward the center. The table itself was of little consequence. It was what was tied to it that drew his gaze. Naked and covered with nothing more than a dingy off-white sheet, Ciel Phantomhive was tied to the wood by lengths of rope around his wrists and ankles. The rough texture of the rope dug into his skin, cutting his flesh open. If he weren't a demon, however, Sebastian doubted that he would have been able to see the cuts under everything else that covered the boy's skin.

Ciel Phantomhive was barely recognizable. Every inch of his skin was covered in blood. It dripped from his hair and coated his hands. As the boy drew shallow breaths, pink bubbles foamed up at his mouth. His porcelain skin was even more pale than it had been before. The soft surface of it was covered in cuts and gashes. Down both of his arms, deep cuts were easily visible even from the distance at which Sebastian stood. His young master looked incredibly pitiful and very fragile. The ragged sound of his breathing was as loud as thunder in Sebastian's ears. Ciel's heartbeat was very faint. Sebastian took a step forward, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight. "Young master!"

Sebastian was completely shocked. Shock, however, did nothing to override the sharp stab of fear and concern that shot through him at the sight of his master's broken body lying on the table. He had served the boy for three years under their contract. Never once in that time had he ever failed to protect the earl as thoroughly as he had failed him now. What he felt was not fear of losing a meal, or even the shame of deviating from a contract. He was genuinely afraid for his master's life. Fear for his young master would not help him, however. He needed to deal with the situation at hand, and deal with it he would. Swiftly, Sebastian looked around and took notice of what was going on in the room around him.

Standing in a semi-circle around the table, a large group of people in heavy black cloaks watched the dying boy with interest. From them, Sebastian could hear the soft sound of chanting. The words were unclear and meaningless as they observed the ritual what was happening in front of them. The ritual was far from just beginning. Edward Crowley stood at the front of the room and held a large silver dagger in the air above his head. Blood dripped sluggishly from the tip of the blade. His eyes flicked to the doorway the moment that Sebastian appeared. Crowley smiled. However, it wasn't Edward Crowley that Sebastian was staring at.

At the head of the cross-shaped table, a tall and pale wraith of a man hovered over Ciel's broken body. His lips were barely an inch away from the earl's own. Even from Ciel's flimsy description, Sebastian could recognize him and knew him for what he was. Fury coursed through Sebastian at the thought of another person, another demon, daring to lay their hands on his master. Sebastian's eyes narrowed threateningly as Basil Rosier's tongue flicked out, licking blood off of Ciel Phantomhive's cheek. Crowley raised his knife. Sebastian flew.

The sound of Sebastian's fist connecting solidly with Basil Rosier's jaw resonated through the room, echoing off the stone as chaos erupted around them. Rosier flew backwards, hitting the floor with an audible crack. Turning, Sebastian knocked the silver dagger from Edward Crowley's hands. Then, he grabbed the boy by the throat and threw him bodily against the wall. The silver dagger skittered across the floor and into the seething crowd of cultists, who were now shouting. Edward Crowley hit the wall with a sickening crunch. Sebastian turned to look at his young master, but his attention was pulled away by the sensation of two powerful hands wrapping around his throat.

"Sebastian Michaelis," said a low growl of a voice. "It's such a shame, but we haven't been formally introduced yet. We have been waiting for a very long while to meet you, you know."

"I take it that you are Basil Rosier. I've been hearing quite a bit about you," Sebastian said, bringing an elbow back to deliver a sharp strike to Rosier's torso. Sebastian twisted in the other demon's grasp, thrusting a hand forward to put it through Rosier's body. He missed. Basil Rosier was incredibly fast.

On the floor, not more than fifteen feet away, Edward Crowley was crawling toward the group of cultists that were seething in the darkness. They hadn't approached yet. Sebastian saw Crowley. He was surprised that the boy was even alive, let alone that he was able to move. Sebastian took a step toward Crowley, ready to finish him off. He couldn't risk Crowley getting a hold of the knife and trying once more to kill his master. Sebastian's path was blocked by Basil Rosier.

"Sadly, I cannot say that I've heard much about you. Your little master has said quite a few things, but your name really hasn't been one of them. He's very interesting, you know. However, his voice definitely isn't his finest asset," Rosier said, laughing darkly as he stood in front of Sebastian. His sharp features were twisted in the dim candlelight that glowed from the edges of the room. Running his tongue across his lips, he said, "Though, admittedly, it can sound quite lovely with the right motivation."

Sebastian growled. Rosier struck out with both hands, his fingers connecting with Sebastian's stomach. Black claws shot out through his cotton gloves, ripping through the fabric of Sebastian's suit and twisting into his flesh. Sebastian was furious at Rosier's words. He barely flinched as the other demon dug into his torso, pushing deeper with his fingers. Sebastian reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of perfectly sharpened pencils. Smoothly, he shoved four of them into Basil Rosier's chest. "You will keep your hands away from my young master."

The pale man hissed, pulling his hands away even as Sebastian turned toward where Ciel was laying on the table. The fight was dragging on far longer than Sebastian was comfortable with. If much more time passed, his master would be beyond help. He looked towards Ciel's body once more with concern, far too aware of the blood that was dripping off the edges of the table. Rosier pulled the pencils out of his flesh and spat on the ground. "You have a fine prize in your master, Michaelis. But, I think my pupil can offer you a better deal. For you and your master. A feast for you and endless power for him. What do you think? A demon cannot ask for more than what my student has to offer."

Edward Crowley was on his feet once more. The silver dagger was held tenuously in the air over Ciel's frail body. Crowley was starting directly at Sebastian as he began to pull the blade down towards the boy beneath it. Sebastian felt Rosier's hand on his arm as he started towards his young master. With barely a thought, he threw the last of the pencils toward Crowley. The pencil struck the blade of the dagger, knocking it from the boy's grip. It sailed across the room and hit the stone wall with a resounding clang. Crowley glanced toward it and looked up just in time to see Sebastian struggle out of Rosier's grip and come towards him. Sebastian's hand wrapped around Crowley's throat and he held the boy into the air, coolly watching the anger that built in the teen's brown eyes as his grip tightened. "No, thank you."

"Perhaps another time, then." Rosier appeared seemingly out of thin air behind Crowley and pulled his pupil out of Sebastian's tight grip. Swiftly, the tall demon turned and began to walk away. Sebastian followed, intending to finish them both, but his way was suddenly blocked by a mass of people dressed in black cloaks.

The cultists were nothing but humans, but there were so many of them that they were overwhelming. The mass managed to block Sebastian from seeing clearly or moving forward. It was as if they were everywhere at once. Sebastian's hand ripped easily through the soft flesh and fabric of his opponents. His skin and clothing were covered in blood and tissue as he pulled them apart. He barely noticed as they fell one by one. They offered him no real resistance. The last of them fell. Then, the room was still. Basil Rosier and Edward Crowley had managed to make their escape as Sebastian had been fighting. Body parts and blood covered the ground around his feet, threatening to soak through the black leather of his shoes. The only sound in the room was the continual dripping of blood off of the wooden table in front of him. No heartbeat. No breath. Ciel Phantomhive was dead.

"Young master." Sebastian's eyes were wide as he walked over to the side of the table. Ciel's eyes were open, staring lifelessly at the darkness above him. His entire body was covered in blood. Sections of his skin were checked by lines of short, shallow cuts. It was as if someone had played with a knife on every inch of his skin. Bruises marked what little skin was left uncovered. Thick gashes trailed down each arm from the elbow to the wrist. It was something of a miracle that he had survived as long as he had. The cuts looked hours old. Whatever it was that Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier had done to his young master, they had been working at it since morning. Reaching up, Sebastian severed the ropes that held his master's body to the table. Bending over, he gently gathered Ciel's body into his arms.

Sebastian had seen a lot of death in his very long life. It had never bothered him. After all, he had frequently been the cause of it. Likewise, he had also lost masters before. Humans were so incredibly delicate that the slightest injury or illness could kill them, and there wasn't much that even a demon could do about that. However, he had never really been effected by that. The intense concern that he had felt earlier at seeing his young master tied up so pitifully on that table and dying was still there. only now it burned, a slow and cutting pain that he could only count as the feeling of loss. He brushed his fingers through Ciel's hair, ignoring the damp layer of blood that coated most of it. He had failed.

A light laughing sound shattered the silence, completely out of place in the glowing dimness of the candlelight. Sebastian's eyes snapped up to the doorway of the room. Framed against the blackness behind him was the vivid outline of Grell Sutcliff. In an instant, Sebastian had set Ciel back down onto the table. The demon then placed himself between the shinigami and his master's lifeless body. Grell stepped further into the room, brushing a few strands of his hair back over his shoulder. He took several steps toward Sebastian, pouting when he finally caught sight of the body of Ciel Phantomhive behind the demon. Swinging the chainsaw up so that it rested on his shoulder, he sighed dramatically. "Oh, what a shame! It looks like I'm a little bit late. He's already dead."

"His soul is mine," Sebastian said, voice dangerously low.

"Oh, you must be talking about that silly little contract of yours," Grell said, swinging his chainsaw forward. The blade squealed against the stone underneath of it. Leaning forward, the red-haired shinigami grinned brightly and batted his eyelashes at Sebastian. "Unfortunately, that contract is between you and him. It has no bearing on us shinigami. The most we do about it is put a note in his file. I do have a job to do, you know, Sebas-chan."

Sebastian glowered at the shinigami, spreading his arms slightly to block Ciel from his view. That was not something that Sebastian had anticipated, even after seeing his master dead. "Regardless, I will not let you touch him."

"When I saw his name come up on the list, I personally requested the assignment, you know. Even if it did come with thirty-seven extras. Will nearly had a fit," Grell sighed dramatically, completely ignoring Sebastian's words. He straightened up a little and brushed some of his hair over one shoulder. Glaring at the pile of body parts that Sebastian had left on the floor behind the table, he huffed. Then, Grell looked up at Sebastian and smiled brightly. "I wanted to see you again, Sebas-chan! The two of us together again in this romantic candle light is amazing! Isn't it wonderful? Though I am a little surprised."

"Oh?" While Grell ranted, Sebastian looked for other ways out of the room. His eyes glanced over the stone walls. There was a chance that he could still revive his young master. However, first he would have to get away from the shinigami that blocked the doorway. The room offered little help. There were no windows and there was no secondary exit. All things considered, it was a wonder that the humans who had been using this room hadn't smothered themselves with all of the candles. The walls were solid stone. The only exit was directly in front of him, through Grell.

"I thought that you would have certainly eaten him all up by the time that I got here. That's a little bit disappointing. Now I'm going to have to do more paperwork! What's the matter? Lost your appetite?" Grell practically purred at him. Lifting the chainsaw to his shoulder once more, he took a couple of steps forward and blew a kiss at Sebastian. "I can give you something that tastes much better than him, you know."

"Do not say such disgusting things." Sebastian stared at him. He didn't even blink. If going through the shinigami was the only option, that was the one he would take. Turning slightly towards the table, he said, "If you will excuse us, my master and I must be leaving."

"You're no fun," Grell pouted. Then, his tone turned serious. "It's not too late, you know."

Sebastian paused. He arched an eyebrow. Cautiously, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"You can still eat his soul. Or save him. Whatever you want, Sebas-chan. I know you have the power to do that. It's not too late, so long as his soul is still in his body. I won't tell a soul," Grell smiled at him. He raised a finger and pressed it to his lips as if to shush someone. "I can fudge the paperwork. I'll tell the higher ups that he was revived before I got here. Such a shame, don't you think? Dying that young. He isn't gone yet. Such a young life. A heart breaking tragedy! It's just like something out of a play! I don't have a problem with him, Sebas-chan. My business is with you. Help me out, though, and you can take him and leave me to my paperwork. They probably won't give me any trouble at all if I tell them it was a filing error. They happen all the time."

Sebastian reached into his pocket and fished out another handful of pencils. His patience with Grell was running thin. Butter knives weren't readily available, but they were at a school. The pencils had seemed a reasonable alternative. "Or I could simply eliminate you and save you the trouble of having to fill out any paperwork in the first place."

"Oh, I'm quite sure that a big, strong man like you could handle me," Grell said, running a hand down his own chest, "but what would you do about the others?"

"Others?"

"Well, even I have time limits for my assignments. If I don't finish my paperwork on time, someone will notice. If I don't show up at all, they'll miss me! Even Will isn't so cold-hearted that he wouldn't notice that I was gone." Grell flashed a sharp grin. He took several more steps forward, coming to stand only a few feet away from Sebastian. "As backed up as the collections department is, it could be months before they looked into souls that weren't collected. However, a missing shinigami is another matter entirely. They would definitely send someone after me. Probably a few someones.

"I have no doubt that you could defeat all of them. The question, could you do so before they took his soul, Sebas-chan? I can help you out."

Sebastian's glare darkened as he considered Grell's words. Shinigami usually left him alone when it came to completing his contracts. When humans cared so little for their own souls that they were willing to give them away, the shinigami usually didn't care either. It was less work for them and it only created a small aberration in the thousands of souls that they collected. He had only run into trouble with them once or twice, and never because of a single contract. However, Sebastian also knew that Grell was correct. If the red-haired shinigami wanted to, he could create a problem that even Sebastian would find difficult to solve. If he took the time to fight additional shinigami, there was a chance that one of them might find a way to go ahead and complete their judgment. That was unacceptable. Just as unacceptable as the fact that he had already failed his master.

Glancing back at Ciel's body, Sebastian wondered what the best course of action to take would be. He could bring Ciel back, yes. He had considered doing just that for several reasons. The main one being that he had not completed the contract between himself and his master. Not only had Ciel not achieved revenge, but part of the contract was that Sebastian would keep him alive. He had brought Ciel back from the dead once before. He could do so again. He had never gone that far for any master before. Now, he wondered if he was only telling himself that the contract was the reason for it.

The sight of his master's body lying on the table caused his heart to constrict painfully. For some reason, the thought of his young master ceasing to exist disturbed him greatly. He knew that he cared for the boy, but his young master was just that. His young master.

It was unlikely that the shinigami would decide to go after a soul if the person had revived. However, in this case, it was possible that they would consider the methods suspicious. It would be troublesome if he were to bring his young master back from the dead only to have him pursued by shinigami. Even so, he would do whatever was necessary to take care of his young master and see the contract through to the end.

Regardless, bargaining with a shinigami was out of the question. He had not yet fallen to that level. On top of that, it wasn't as though making a deal with a shinigami would lessen the chances of another shinigami coming to collect his young master's soul.

"No, thank you. I do not require your assistance." Sebastian took one step forward and, in a single smooth movement, snatched the chainsaw out of Grell's grip. He started the blade, bringing it up to hover only a few inches from Grell's neck. "Even if I gave in to your demands, your interference with the paperwork would only serve to present the same problems. Once someone discovered your trickery, we would still be pursued. I believe I can save you the trouble."

"Wait!" Grell squeaked, taking a step backward. The blade still hovered dangerously close to his skin. "Wait, wait! That's not true at all, Sebas-chan!"

Sebastian lowered the chainsaw. Slightly. "Oh?"

Even with only a few more inches to breathe in, a nervous smile returned to Grell's face and he batted his eyelashes at Sebastian. When Sebastian raised the chainsaw again, Grell quickly explained. "You need me!"

"No, that I do not."

"I can take him off the list all together!" Grell shouted. "His name won't come up again, not for years!"

"How?" Sebastian asked, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"When someone's continued existence is beneficial to mankind, we can let them live."

Sebastian arched an eyebrow sharply. Even so, he lowered the chainsaw. "My young master's existence has never been what anyone would consider 'beneficial to mankind'. He is not a philanthropist."

"Oh, but there you are wrong," Grell said. "He's done a good deal more than you realize. You've even helped.

"We've spared warlords for similar reasons, you know. His repeated eradication of people who would or could otherwise eliminate vast numbers of innocents has managed to save more lives than either of you seems to realize. The two of you have killed so many people that you've wound up saving lives. Ironic, isn't it, Sebas-chan? It's not like he's saved enough lives to completely change the face of the planet, but enough that it has earned the notice of our office. There's an entire note on it in his file, you know. He might not have been doing it on purpose, but the fact remains that it's happened. And if he lives, he's likely to continue doing so." Grell licked his lips and leaned forward, close enough that Sebastian could feel his breath on his skin. "Take my offer, and I'll spare him. Even Will can't argue with that. You need me, Sebas-chan."

"Be that as it may, preventing death would not outweigh the fact that he summoned, and entered into a contract with, one such as myself," Sebastian pointed out, voice flat. He raised the chainsaw once more.

"No, you're quite right!" Grell took another step back, putting his hands up defensively. "As I said, there's a note in his file about that. If he were, for some reason, to die and be collected he would definitely be damned! But that doesn't mean he has to die now, Sebas-chan! I can help, and I'm not even asking much!"

Sebastian was very quiet as he considered Grell's words. Killing the shinigami would be messy, if enjoyable, and it would leave the problem of shinigami that might follow and finish the job. Reviving his young master without that particular difficulty was the ideal situation. Cautiously, he asked, "What do you want?"

"You."


	4. Chapter 4

"Excuse me?"

"I want you, Sebas-chan," Grell smiled at Sebastian, running a tongue across his lips, "but a kiss will do for now. The mood in here isn't right for more."

Sebastian stared coldly at the shinigami standing in front of him. He found everything about the man repulsive. Grell's repeated insistence and less than subtle suggestions did nothing to improve his views, either. Turning slightly, Sebastian looked at the battered and bloodied body of his young master. The boy was already dead. The more time that passed, the smaller the chances were of being able to bring him back. Even for one such as himself, Sebastian knew that there were limits to what he was capable of repairing. He knew that he should turn around and devour the boy's soul right then and there, regardless of the unfinished contract. He should eat it before the shinigami could even move to stop him. In his place, any other demon would.

Ciel Phantomhive's soul was incredibly beautiful and pure, even with everything that he had been through. It was such a temptation, such a rare find that Sebastian had stayed by his side for three years. That was why he had remained a loyal and devoted servant to his young master, he told himself. His stomach stirred uneasily as he stared at the boy's body. He had never failed to follow orders. It was a matter of pride. Orders were everything. However, it wasn't dedication to following orders that he felt as he looked at Ciel now. He hated the sight of that frail body beaten and bleeding. At that moment, Sebastian had no desire to devour his soul. He did not wish to see his young master dead. And, he most certainly did not wish to bring him back to life only to lose him to some miserly shinigami.

Looking back at Grell, Sebastian considered the situation. Was his young master worth enough to him that it trumped his utter disgust at the creature standing in front of him? Slowly, Sebastian lowered the chainsaw. Grell looked hopefully at him over the rims of red glasses. "Well, what do you think?"

Sebastian took one large step forward and reached out, grabbing Grell by the back of his head. He pulled the man forward, crashing his lips down onto the shinigami's own. Heat sparked up between them as their lips and tongues tangled, and died just as quickly as Sebastian pushed him roughly away, sending him sprawling to the ground. With barely a thought, Sebastian tossed the chainsaw on the floor next to him.

Turning, Sebastian faced the wooden table where his young master's body was laying. How many minutes had passed? It did not matter, he still had time. Bending over the boy, Sebastian wrapped one arm around Ciel's back and pulled him up. Ever so gently, he brought his lips down over his master's and breathed into his mouth.

At first, nothing happened. Then, a shiver ran down Ciel Phantomhive's entire body and he began to shake. His body trembled and then jolted as he gasped, filling his lungs with air. Sebastian smiled. Once again, his young master was alive. An overwhelming sense of relief flooded through the demon as he watched the boy's chest rise and fall. Alive, but still unconscious, as if sleeping. However, life was a fragile thing. If he did not take care of the wounds that Ciel had sustained, Sebastian knew that he could still die again. Bringing someone back from the dead was neither easy nor something that he was capable of frequently. If he lost Ciel again, that would be the end.

"Young master," Sebastian whispered. He picked up the sheet that covered his young master and ripped two thick strips off of it. Quickly, he tied them over the large cuts that marred each of Ciel's forearms, restricting the blood flow and covering the wounds. Using the rest of the sheet, he covered his master's body once more. Carefully, he gathered the boy into his arms. Sebastian pressed him to his chest, turning and barely sparing Grell a glance as he walked out of the candlelit chamber and into the darkness that lay beyond.

~

The trip to Sebastian's quarters was made as quickly and silently as possible without jostling Ciel more than necessary. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the day, they passed no one as they moved quickly through the halls. Even if they had, there would be little explanation to give. Sebastian neither noticed nor cared about that piece of good fortune. His attention was entirely on the boy that he carried in his arms.

Even though Ciel was alive, he was in very bad shape. His face pressed heavily against he butler's chest and his breath was short and raspy, sounding both rough and strained. As they moved, Sebastian shifted him so that the boy was practically sitting in his arms. The earl's head leaned against Sebastian's shoulder. The raspy sound subsided a little, his breathing eased by the new position. Against his neck, Sebastian could feel Ciel's lips move even before his ears could detect the word, "Sebastian..."

"Young master?" The demon looked down at the boy, surprised that he was awake. However, Ciel Phantomhive was still unconscious. Sebastian tightened his hold on the precious cargo that he carried in his arms and hurried forward toward his room.

Once inside, Sebastian laid his young master down on the bed. He didn't care about the blood that was dripping off of Ciel's body and onto the covers. There were more important things to worry about. Picking up a spare blanket and a secondary pillow, he put them behind his master's head and back to prop him up so that he could breathe easier. Straightening up, Sebastian removed his coat and gloves and then rolled up his sleeves. Swiftly, he lit a lamp and then set to work.

Sebastian picked up the pitcher that sat on his wash stand and poured it into the basin next to it. He lamented the fact that the water inside of it wasn't colder. Cold water would help to constrict the blood vessels and stop the bleeding, and it would be better for his young master's constitution. Unfortunately, there was no way to chill the water or find colder water without leaving the room. Moving Ciel from where he was laying was a very undesirable course of action. Venturing away to retrieve more appropriate supplies was also not an option. Sebastian dared not leave the room. He added a clean sponge to the water.

"Young master," Sebastian said as he sat down on the bed next to the boy. He set the basin down on the small table that rested beside the bed. Ciel was very pale. His breathing was still shallow and raspy. He still looked very much like a corpse, even though he was once again among the living. Sebastian took a moment to look him over and check the extent of the injuries, each touch filled with cautious concern. Most of them were shallow, superficial cuts. The edge of a sharp knife had been dragged repeatedly over his skin with only minimal pressure used. Torture. There were dozens of cuts. Those, at least, would heal cleanly. Much of his skin had also been bruised, partially from cuts and more likely from being struck. The sight of so much blood spread across his young master's small body infuriated Sebastian.

On Ciel's left arm, the bruises clearly outlined a hand print. Sebastian's expression darkened considerably as he studied the shape of it. Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier had spent a considerable amount of time doing what they had done. They had taken their time as they had brought his master down and hurt him. Sebastian recalled some of what the other demon, Basil Rosier, had said in that room under the school not long before. Momentarily, Sebastian wondered if the extent of the physical injuries only extended to knife wounds and bruises. However, he could not detect the scent of either of Ciel's assailants on his skin. It was unlikely that either of them had violated his young master in any other way. Even so, he would inquire about it when his master was in better shape. One thing was certain; Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier had sealed their own fates by simply deciding to take his young master. Sebastian looked forward to taking his own time returning the favor, little by little.

Sebastian lifted the sponge out of the basin, wringing it out but still leaving it heavy with water, and began to clean Ciel's body. Most of the cuts had long since stopped bleeding, but it was of the utmost importance to flush them thoroughly with water. Infection was a concern, especially with how small Ciel was. His body would not be able to handle much more than it already had. Even though the water was reasonably cool and Sebastian's touch firm, Ciel did not stir. The demon was not concerned about the fact that the boy did not wake up. When he had revived the boy the first time, the very night that they had formed their contract, he had slept for two days. Dying had a tendency to exhaust a person.

When he had finished washing all of the smaller cuts, Sebastian emptied the basin, rinsed it and then filled it with more water. Then, he sat beside Ciel and began to unwrap the boy's right forearm. The makeshift bandages were soaked through with blood, but the bleeding appeared to have largely stopped. That did not stop the wound from looking horrendous. The cuts extended most of the length of the forearm. However, Edward Crowley was apparently no master when it came to mutilation or murder - he had missed all of the major blood vessels. The real concern was whether or not Ciel would have full use of his hands when the injuries healed, though Sebastian suspected that would not be an issue. It was also a stroke of luck that the psychotic child that had done this seemed to favor well kept weaponry. Sebastian had seen the dagger that had been used. It was sharp and seemed at least relatively clean, not rusted or dull.

Carefully, Sebastian flushed the wound with water and then unwrapped the other arm and repeated the action. Muslin bandages would have been ideal, but they were most definitely short in supply. In truth, the cuts definitely merited stitches. Aside from having no thread or needles, however, Sebastian would have preferred to leave that to someone who actually had experience doing so. Sebastian doubted that his master would appreciate having to explain the injuries to a physician, however. He could find a solution for that later. Bandages would do for now. As a demon, Sebastian had not found much merit in learning how to heal humans. He had certainly never needed to patch up more than a couple of relatively minor injuries while in the service of his young master. He simply had not anticipated a situation like this. On the numerous occasions that his young master had been abducted, Sebastian had always been able to retrieve him without great incident.

With the wounds clean, Sebastian resigned himself to having to improvise on the bandages. There were several spare sets of sheets that he had discovered tucked into the wardrobe. This room had been used for storage even after the murders had begun, and had only hastily been cleaned out when he and his master had arrived. The sheets had been forgotten. They weren't dusty, and they were freshly cleaned. They would do for now, though he would have to retrieve proper bandages from the infirmary when he had the chance. Sebastian pulled one of the sheets apart, tearing long strips off. Lifting one arm, Sebastian pressed the wound closed as best he could and bandaged the cut. Then, he did the same with the other arm.

Then, he was done. Mercifully, Ciel slept on. He had not stirred even once, to Sebastian's relief. When he finally did wake up, he would be in some discomfort thanks to the cuts. There was no helping that for now. With any luck,t he reasonably tight bandages would help to lessen the pain. Lifting Ciel off of the bed, Sebastian managed to change the bedsheets and covers without setting him down. When the filthy blankets, sheets and pillows had been changed out, Sebastian set Ciel back into the bed. The butler dressed him in a fresh nightshirt, and then tucked him into bed with an extra blanket for warmth.

Sebastian sat down int he wooden chair next to the bed and looked at his young master. Ciel was still pale, even more so than normal. However, his heartbeat was steady. His breathing was starting to even out and now had only the barest edge of raspiness to it as he slept. Watching him now, Sebastian felt an uneasy ache in his chest, one that he had rarely felt before. Quietly, he said, "I never thought that I would live to see the day when saving one person would hold more appeal for me than devouring his soul."

Almost as if in response, Ciel began to stir. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, staring at the ceiling with a dazed look. "Sebastian..."

"Are you awake now, young master?" Sebastian asked, surprised that the boy was awake so soon. He leaned forward and brushed a few strands of hair from Ciel's face.

Ciel let out a hacking cough. His eyes slid closed, voice rough as he tried to give an order. "... the cultists... Crowley... kill..."

The statement was cut off as he broke into a coughing fit, body shaking underneath of the blankets. Sebastian leaned forward, frowning in concern. As he reached for Ciel, he said, "Most are dead..." Even with a dazed look on his face, Ciel managed to swat the butler's hands away from him. Sebastian sighed, feeling his eyes glow lightly as he thought of the assailants that had done this to his young master. "... and the last two shall follow very soon, my lord."

On the bed, Ciel tried to sit up. His arms trembled and he fell backwards. His fall was cushioned by a pair of strong arms as Sebastian caught him before he could hit the mattress. Ciel stared up at him, surprised by his sudden closeness. Sebastian stared down at him, his expression serious. "You shouldn't use your arms unless you cannot help it, young master. Would you like to sit up a little more?"

Weakly, Ciel nodded. Little by little, he was becoming more aware. Sebastian pulled a spare pillow from the side of the bed and set it behind his master's back, allowing him to sit up a little straighter. Without being asked, Sebastian poured a glass of water and brought it over to him. He tilted the glass to the boy's lips. Ciel didn't even protest the help as he lightly sipped the water. Sebastian stood and turned to take the glass back over to where he had been keeping it, but stopped when he felt fingers on the sleeve of his coat. He turned to look at Ciel in surprise. The look in Ciel's eyes was surprisingly direct, despite his obvious exhaustion. His voice was weak, but the words were strong as Ciel whispered, "Do not leave my side."

Something in the way that Ciel said the words bothered Sebastian a great deal. Looking down at the boy, the demon could see something that he had not seen many times in the boy's eyes. Fear. Though clearly dazed, it was obvious that Ciel was still conscious enough to remember what happened. Rather than respond directly, Sebastian nodded and took a seat in the chair by the bed, setting the glass down on the nightstand.

Ciel's fingers remained on his sleeve despite the obvious strain that it took for him to keep them there, his arm covered in bandages and likely hurting. 

Quietly, Sebastian said, "My lord, I have failed you today. I should have come to look for you sooner, and this situation might have been avoided. My careless actions have put you in grave danger. For that, I cannot forgive myself. I am sorry." Slowly, Sebastian reached up and lifted Ciel's hand gently from the sleeve of the coat, moving his arm to a position that looked like it would be more comfortable. He held the boy's hand in his own. "What can I do to atone for this?"

Ciel was very quiet as he looked at Sebastian. Though exhausted, he had paid attention to every word that the demon had said. His body ached and he only wanted to forget what had happened that morning. For the time being, he was safe. Protected. Just as quietly as the demon beside him had spoken, Ciel said, "Hold me."

"Young master?" Sebastian's eyebrows lifted in surprise at the statement.

"Just for a little while," Ciel said. He was too tired to be embarrassed. At that moment, he didn't care how embarrassing or improper it was to ask something like that of someone, especially Sebastian. It was simply something he wanted. His eyes drifted back to stare at the ceiling even as Sebastian stood up from where he sat in the chair next to the bed.

The bed was very small, and there was no way for Sebastian to fulfill the request while sitting in the small wooden chair. Instead, Sebastian slipped his shoes off and pulled the covers of the bed back, frowning as Ciel shivered even in the warm air of the room. Bending over, Sebastian gently picked the boy up and cradled him in his arms as he seated himself on the bed. Slowly, he leaned his young master against his chest. Ciel rested his head against Sebastian's chest, listening to the slow and steady heartbeat of his faithful servant. Sebastian moved Ciel's arms so that they lay on the bed, not rubbing against either of them. Brown eyes met with a head of slate hair as the demon looked down at the boy that was pressed so warmly against him. "Is this all right, young master?"

"Yes," came the nearly silent words as Ciel pressed his face into the soft fabric of Sebastian's shirt and waistcoat.

As gently as possible, Sebastian wound his arms around the small form that lay on top of him. The boy was nearly weightless against him, little more than a warm phantom. Not that long before, Sebastian had found himself truly afraid at the thought of losing his young master. A boy, a human. A meal. As startling as that thought was, it was nothing compared to the warmth that the demon felt as he looked at him now.

Sebastian could hear the beating of Ciel's heart, a steady and repetitive sound that he had never even noticed he was still listening for. Memories of the scene in the dank storage room beneath the school came to him easily. The silence that he had heard when he had realized that his young master was dead. The sight of his broken body on top of that wooden table. Sebastian's arms tightened around the frail form of the boy now falling against his chest. It was truly remarkable that one small, insignificant human could effect him the way that Ciel Phantomhive did. The boy was inconsequential and insignificant, another way to relieve boredom in a lifetime that stretched for millennia. Sustenance. There were millions of other humans out there, though none that were quite as interesting as this one boy. And yet, none of those thoughts had entered into Sebastian's mind when the time had come to decide whether or not to save him.

There was one thing that Sebastian was quite certain of. Nothing like this would ever happen again. No one would ever again have the opportunity to do to Ciel Phantomhive what Edward Crowley had done. Sebastian would make quite certain of that. His expression darkened at the very thought of the boy and his supposed tutor. He had little doubt that the two of them had already fled the school. It did not matter. He would find them, and they would die. Preferably slowly. They would pay for what they had done, as much for his master's sake as for the fact that Sebastian wished that they could undergo the same tortures.

In his sleep, Ciel murmured wordlessly against Sebastian's chest. Through the incoherent babble, Sebastian barely caught the syllables of his own name. In an instant, the lethal expression on his face had softened and he let out a sigh. Reaching up with one hand, he ran his fingers gently through the soft strands of Ciel's hair. He cared for the boy more than he should. Fighting it only made it worse. Yet again, Sebastian found himself in a situation that he had not anticipated. For the first time in many years, he was uncertain of what to do. Leaning forward, he brushed the lightest of kisses against the top of the boy's head. 

"Young master, what have you done to me?"


	5. Chapter 5

Ciel Phantomhive woke up slowly, in stages. The very first thing that he became aware of was warmth. Everything around him was cozy and safe. His bed was not as soft as he was usually accustomed to, but it was still very comfortable. He was wrapped snugly in a heavy pile of blankets. Settling deeper into them, he pressed his face against his pillow. It smelled good. Very good, actually. The scent was that of the very best tea and cookies that he had ever had, mixed with something darker and earthier - like his gardens after a heavy rain. Whatever it was, he liked it. He felt completely safe and relaxed. All that he wanted to do was go back to sleep. If it were not for the persistent, aching buzz at the back of his head then he would do just that. The distant pain seemed to be getting stronger, though, and it was tugging him toward waking. The headache was starting to spread down his body and into his arms as he woke up more. Ciel turned his head, trying to get away from the discomfort. If he could just get back to sleep, then the pain would go away. All that he had to do was just g-

"Young master?" Sebastian's voice was so close to Ciel's ear that he could feel the man's breath against his skin. Ciel considered this for all of half a second before he jolted up into a sitting position and found himself straddling the butler's hips. That was the reason that his bed was so comfortable. His bed was Sebastian. Ciel shouted in pain as the cuts on his arms protested the sudden movement. Sebastian let out a heavy sigh, reaching forward and examining the bandages on his master's arms. "I was just about to ask if you were truly awake or not, young master."

"You!" Ciel shouted, staring straight at Sebastian with a mixture of anger and confusion. "You're in my bed!"

Raising an eyebrow skeptically, Sebastian stopped his examination of the bandages to look at the boy sitting in his lap. "Strictly speaking, young master, _you_ are in _my_ bed. Might I remind you that you were the one who asked me to hold you?"

"Asked you to..." Ciel's face darkened several shades as fuzzy memories of the previous day came back to him. He pushed the details of the morning aside, but could not deny that Sebastian was right. He really had asked Sebastian to hold him. Surely, that had been due to delirium from his injuries. He couldn't really have wanted...

Seeing the look on Ciel's face, Sebastian smiled. "You seemed to be quite enjoying it up until-"

"Shut up!" The response was immediate. Ciel stared intently at the wall behind Sebastian's head, determined not to meet the demon's amused gaze, especially not with how read his face was. The smile on Sebastian's face widened, but he said nothing. Instead, Sebastian lifted the boy up off his lap and set him back down on the bed in an empty space. Sebastian stood. Ciel watched as Sebastian proceeded to straighten his close and pull his tailcoat back on. He fastened the waistcoat once more and put his shoes on. Ciel asked, "What are you doing?"

"Now that you are awake, it would be wise of me to go and retrieve some proper bandages from the infirmary," Sebastian said, dusting off the last of his clothing. There was a darkened area on his crisp, white shirt that looked suspiciously like a drool spot. Ciel chose to ignore that.

Adjusting his spot on the bed, Ciel asked quietly, "Are... they gone?"

Sebastian turned to look at him, his expression soft. He did not have to ask whom his master was referring to. "Young master, I would not even think of leaving your side if Edward Crowley and his tutor were still here. Would it be all right for me to retrieve the bandages?"

Silently, Ciel nodded. Sebastian bowed shortly and then exited the room. In the butler's absence, Ciel readjusted himself on the bed. He moved so that his legs hung over the edge, toes barely brushing the stone floor. He still looked like a mess, which would no doubt add to Sebastian's amusement when the man returned, but at least he was not still sitting as if he was in Sebastian's lap.

Ciel looked down at the makeshift bandages on his arms. The strips of sheet looked clean enough from the outside, but they itched against his skin. His entire body ached and he felt groggy. The cuts on his arms hurt, but he did not really notice the pain unless he was trying to move his arms or use his hands. Lifting one arm, he studied the contrast between the color of the sheet and his own pale skin. He could recall much of what had happened the previous day. The images and sounds ran through his mind and he shivered in response. Brushing the images out of his mind, he sighed just as a swift knock sounded on the door. Without waiting for permission, Sebastian opened the door and slit into the room silently. He walked through the small space and kneeled in front of the bed. Carefully, he deposited a collection of bandages, stoppered glass bottles and rags onto the wooden chair beside him.

"What time is it?" Ciel asked.

"It is nearly four o'clock in the morning." Reaching out to take hold of Ciel's right arm, Sebastian asked, "What would you like to do about the current situation, young master?"

Ciel watched for a moment as Sebastian began to unwind the cloth that covered the cut. The skin beneath it looked awful and Ciel quickly looked away. "The situation has not yet been resolved, obviously, and we will have to take care of it. However, yesterday's events have made our original plan difficult, if not impossible, to see through. Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier are not at the school?"

"No," Sebastian said. He piled the soiled bandages to one side, setting Ciel's arm down as he wetted a rag with astringent from one of the glass bottles. "This will burn, young master. At the moment, I could not say where they are. However, I do not believe that they are at this school or on the school grounds. As I said, I-"

"-would not leave me alone if they were. I know." Ciel's voice sounded tired as he spoke. He paused, wincing as Sebastian pressed the rag to the cut. It burned, but the burning sensation was more preferable to the alternative of an infection. When Sebastian pulled the rag away, Ciel said, "Until we know where they are, there isn't much that we can do. We should try to ascertain their location. There is the possibility that they have stayed in the local area, or they may have returned to where Crowley's family lives. At present, we have no way of knowing. That being said, our presence here is useless. We will go back to the mansion and then decide what to do from there. Make arrangements when you are done here."

"Understood," Sebastian said. Pressing the sides of the cut together, he wound a fresh bandage around the arm. After a moment, he spoke again. "Young master, you will need to see a doctor about these cuts. While I can clean and bandage your arms, this is not an area that I have much expertise in. You have also lost a considerable amount of blood. It would be wise-"

"I will not see a doctor." Though he was obviously still exhausted, Ciel's voice was firm. "When we go back to the manor house, we can find another solution."

"As you wish." Sebastian reached out and took hold of the other arm, carefully unwrapping it before he began to clean it as well.

"What happened to the cultists?" Ciel asked. "I don't remember everything, but I know there were quite a few of them in that room where you found me."

"I killed them," Sebastian said simply.

This news did not come as a surprise to Ciel. He had surmised as much, but he had wanted to be certain. "Have the bodies been found yet?"

"No," Sebastian said, "but I believe that, despite the early hour, the school may be becoming aware of the fact that the students and teachers are missing. It would be wise for us to make our departure quickly, I believe."

"We will leave immediately, then."

"Yes, my lord."

~

The carriage ride from Tonbridge School to the Phantomhive manor house had been completely uneventful. Even so, the ride had taken longer than anticipated. They had not arrived at the house until very late in the afternoon. Now, it was nearly time for a very late afternoon tea. Sebastian raised a gloved hand and knocked on his master's bedroom door. Not waiting for a response, he slid it open and pushed the silver teacart into the room ahead of him.

Sitting on the bed, Ciel Phantomhive watched the blond-haired man kneeling on the floor in front of him. Bard had just finished tying bandages onto the boy's arm. He clipped the excess off the bandages. While the chef's history of disasters in the kitchen made him an unlikely choice, he made a surprisingly good stand-in medic. Supposedly, the skill came from his experience in the military. People had been frequently injured and genuine doctors had been in short supply, most of the soldiers in his unit were able to stitch a wound or two. Bardroy had taken care of minor injuries for the household staff before, but never the young master. Bard collected his supplies and walked toward the door of the room just as Sebastian entered.

"Were you able to take care of his wounds?" Sebastian asked, stopping the chef in the doorway.

"Yeah. They were pretty nasty, but I cleaned them out and got 'em sewn up. Had to cut one of 'em back open, though. It had started to heal over." Bard reached up and scratched his head. "They're pretty cleanly made cuts, though. They'll heal, but they're gonna scar. No avoidin' that. He really should see a proper doctor. I'm good in a pinch, but I'm no pro."

"That's fine. So long as the wounds have been tended to," Sebastian said, avoiding the subject of the doctor. He agreed with the chef, but Ciel had been adamant against a doctor seeing the wounds. This was not the first time. Admittedly, the injuries would be very difficult to explain.

"They were," Bard said, glancing back toward the earl that was now studying the bandages on his arms. "He's pretty tough for a kid his age."

"Yes, he is." Sebastian smiled. It was remarkable that his young master was up and functioning as well as he was, considering everything he had been through in the past day. He had not once complained about pain or discomfort. Sebastian felt rather proud of him. "Bard, I have prepared some beef and set it in the kitchen. Would you please see to it that it is sliced and ready in time for dinner?"

"Got it," Bard said, nodding. He smiled brightly, gave Sebastian a thumbs-up and then walked out into the hallway.

Alone with his master once more, Sebastian turned his attention to the boy that was still sitting on the bed. Pushing the tea tray so that it sat next to the bed, Sebastian asked, "How are you feeling, young master?"

"A little better," Ciel replied. Gingerly, he reached up and took a teacup and saucer that Sebastian handed to him. The butler watched cautiously for a moment to make certain that his master would be able to handle the weight. The butler had specifically selected a lighter set of china to use, in consideration of the injuries that Ciel had received. Ciel held cup and saucer lightly and took a sip of the tea. "Sebastian, after dinner tonight I need to send a letter to the Queen."

"Very well," Sebastian said. Satisfied that his master could handle the weight of the cup, he turned back towards the teacart. "If it pleases you, I can have it delivered this evening."

"That would be fine," Ciel said. He watched wordlessly as Sebastian lifted a knife and sliced the orange-and-chocolate tart that he had prepared to go with the tea. Then, quietly, he said, "Sebastian..."

"Yes, young master?"

"What happened beneath the school?" Ciel set the teacup and saucer on the stand beside the bed and looked up at him. "I remember some of what happened before I was taken to the room with the table, but after that I don't remember much."

Sebastian watched him with a somber expression. Rather than disclosed everything that had happened, Sebastian phrased his reply carefully. "When I found you, young master, you were already badly injured. Both Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier were preparing to take your life. I was able to interrupt their plan of action. However, the cultists - seeing their leader under duress - interfered with my actions. When I had dealt with them, I discovered that both Edward Crowley and his tutor were gone. I collected you and treated your injuries. I believe that you know the rest, young master."

It was no accident that Sebastian had chosen to leave out a number of details of the previous day. While he would never lie, this was not the first time that he had chosen to omit information. At that moment, he saw no reason to mention the fact that Basil Rosier was a demon. In fact, he suspected that highlighting that particular piece of information might drive his master to determine that they would need to act more swiftly to eliminate this threat. The fact that Sebastian had brought his young master back from the dead had also not been mentioned. It had no bearing on the situation. All of these things, along with the agreement that he had struck with Grell Sutcliff, had been omitted from his retelling. His master would probably be better off not knowing. At least, not just then.

The story that Sebastian had given his master was simple but complete. Still, Ciel watched him as though he knew that pieces were missing. AS he took the small plate with the slice of tart, Ciel asked, "How is it that a single man and a boy gave you so much trouble that they were able to escape?"

"Young master, your life is my highest priority," Sebastian said. "If I had pursued Edward Crowley and his tutor at that time, it is likely that you would not be alive now."

"Fine." Ciel gave him one last skeptical look and took a small bite of the tart.

"When you find them, what do you intend to do?" Sebastian asked as he carefully refolded a napkin.

Lowering his fork, Ciel looked at the butler. "I will eliminate them."

For a long moment, Sebastian said nothing. When he spoke, the words were quiet. "Young master, you should be more careful in dealing with things of this nature."

Ciel glared at him. He did not appreciate the suggestion that he was not capable of handling the situation at hand. Tersely, he said, "Sebastian I am perfectly capable of-"

Ciel's irritated response was cut short as Sebastian leaned over and reached out, letting the gloved fingers of his right hand drift down the side of his master's face. Ciel stared at him, utterly dumbfounded as the light touch completely derailed his train of thought. As quickly as he had leaned in, Sebastian pulled away. He collected the dishes that Ciel had been using, bowed shortly and excused himself.

Outside of the bedroom, Sebastian slid the door shut and stared at the finely carved wooden panels. There was something disconcerting about the fact that his young master was so eager to throw himself into a situation that he did not fully comprehend. Intelligent and logical, Sebastian was used to seeing the boy research things before acting. Even when Ciel Phantomhive acted swiftly, there was usually some measure of caution involved. In this instance, where thorough research was not practical or easily possible, it would seem that his master had decided to act anyway. Something about that bothered the demon.

Most humans avoided trouble. It usually found them, rather than the other way around. Staying away from danger was instinctual. It was a sense that people were born with. In the case of Ciel Phantomhive, it seemed to be just the opposite. Whether due to his history or due to his duties to the Queen, he sought out danger. Ordinarily, Sebastian did not really mind. He was quite content to go along with whatever his master had decided to do. In fact, he often found that part of the boy's life intriguing. In this instance, as well, he would follow his orders as he always had. However, Sebastian was not anxious to see his young master in the proximity of Edward Crowley or Basil Rosier so soon after the events that had occurred under the school.

Rearranging a couple of the plates on the tea tray, Sebastian sighed. When had he become this sentimental? It had been a very long time since he had cared about a master of his. Some concern was natural, of course. After all, when the contract included a requirement that the human be kept alive, danger for his master was also danger of losing a meal. However, fear for a meal was not why Sebastian was uneasy with the thought of his master dying. Pushing the teacart forward, Sebastian went to continue his daily duties.

~

Several days had passed since Ciel Phantomhive and his butler had returned to the Phantomhive mansion. Ciel sat in his office and spent the evening going over papers for the Funtom Company. Despite protests from Sebastian and other members of the household staff, Ciel had started doing things for the company the day after they had returned from the school. Quiet and a lack of progress on his assignment for the Queen made him feel uneasy. He never enjoyed admitting that he had run into a dead end, but a dead end was precisely where he had found himself regarding the murders at Tonbridge School.

Originally, he had suspected that Edward Crowley might return to his family. After all, Crowley was young. Any other fourteen-year-old, regardless of how twisted they might seem, would probably go back to more familiar surroundings. However, the information that Ciel had managed to gather told him that Crowley had not done so. In fact, Crowley and his mother were on such poor terms that Ciel would never have considered that possibility if he had known the facts beforehand. Sebastian had never mentioned this. Then again, Ciel had never asked. They also had never expected to be in the position that they found themselves in at that particular moment.

It was possible that Edward Crowley and his tutor, Basil Rosier, had remained in the area around Tonbridge School. For what purpose, Ciel had no idea. He hoped that most of the cultists had been decimated by Sebastian, leaving Crowley with only a rudimentary following. It was possible that those remaining few might be a draw for the boy killer. If push came to shove, Ciel would have to try other sources of information. Lau was the usual, though Ciel had no idea how helpful the Chinese man might be in finding a teenager who was not of noble blood or involved in the drug industry.

On top of the frustration with a lack of information, Ciel had not received a reply to the letter that he had dispatched to Queen Victoria. His own letter had detailed his findings and his future course of action. A lack of reply from the Queen was not uncommon once he had completed assignments. However, this had been one of the few times that he had been made to report on a matter that had not yet concluded. Ciel had been certain that she would have some response. He had been even more certain of that since the bodies of the cultists had been discovered under the school. Their remains had caused quite a stir; one that even the school and local authorities had not been able to keep under wraps. The school had been temporarily shut down in the wake of finding nearly forty of their students and staff very literally torn to pieces in their own basement. The horror of that discovery, however, had been quickly explained and exploited by the eager press. Even though Tonbridge was a fair distance from London, the paper had received this morning discussed the subject. They seemed to believe that a cave-in at the school had been responsible for the destruction, even though no stone debris or structural damage had been found. Idiots. He stared down at the papers on his desk and sighed in annoyance. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock on the office door. "Enter."

The office door opened and Sebastian stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Young master, it is time to get ready for bed."

"All right," Ciel said, "I'll put these papers away."

"Also, we have received a letter from Her Majesty the Queen."

Ciel looked up in mild surprise. "Finally. What does it say?"

Sebastian pulled the crisp envelope from a pocket. Opening it quickly, he pulled the letter out. He glanced over it once and then began to convey the contents. "Her Majesty wishes to convey her deepest wishes that you might recover swiftly from your injuries. However, She is anxious to see the matter at Tonbridge School resolved. It would seem that, early this morning, another body was found at Tonbridge School in the same vicinity as the previous victims. The murder victim was a tutor that had been at the school. His name was John Mason. His body bore all the same markings that the previous murder victims had. She wishes to see these murders stopped as swiftly and quietly as possible, preferably without additional loss of life at the school."

"Another murder? And after most of the students have been sent away thanks to the discovery of those bodies, too," Ciel said, quirking an eyebrow. That was unexpected. "This is new."

"What would you like to do, young master? Sebastian folded the letter and tucked it back into its envelope, sliding it back into a pocket.

"The objective has not changed. We will find Edward Crowley and his tutor and we will destroy them," Ciel said. "While this new murder is not good news, it tells us that Edward Crowley is likely still in the area around the school. I needed to know where he was before I could act. Now that I know, I shall act.

"Returning to the school itself isn't a possibility. Even if the school wasn't closed at the moment, the other students and teachers are aware that I left right in the midst of the happenings. I would be suspicious. If any of them were still involved with Crowley, that would be both dangerous and pointless. On top of that, all of the classes and the like have been suspended. While some students are still on the campus, I would be stuck in a dorm all day, supposing they did allow me back in. Our surest bet will be to go to the town around the school and begin our search there. We will leave first thing in the morning. Make the preparations, Sebastian."

"As you wish," Sebastian said. "Young master, I am curious. Do you still intend to kill Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier, in light of the Queen's request for no further loss of life?"

"Yes." The answer was short and to the point. Ciel looked directly at Sebastian as he said it. "The Queen requested that there be no further loss of life at the school. Neither Crowley nor his instructor are part of or even resident at the school, therefore I will not be violating Her Majesty's wishes. In addition to this, I believe it may be the only way to stop the murders at the school."

Sebastian frowned lightly. "How so?"

"Much like with any other animal, if you cut off the head then you will kill the cult," Ciel responded. "Supposing that the cultists are acting without Edward Crowley's directive, they are likely still driven and inspired by him. People tend to follow a person rather than an idea. I will eliminate the person and eliminate their reason for acting."

"Young master," Sebastian said, "I wonder if you have considered the possibility that cutting off the head may only make the problem worse."

Pausing, Ciel looked up at Sebastian and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Humans are unpredictable creatures. They thrive on chaos. Given the opportunity and the inspiration, they can follow an idea with just as much fervor as an individual," Sebastian said. "While it is true that there has been another murder, we have little indication that this murder is directly connected with Edward Crowley or his tutor. There is little evidence to support their involvement at all. Like a dog chasing his tail, you may be chasing your own ideas rather than facts."

Ciel frowned darkly, unhappy with being compared to a dog. "It has all the same markers as the previous murders, yes? You said so yourself. In which case, there is also no evidence to show that Edward Crowley was not involved. Were there any drag marks to show where the body was moved from?"

"There were none mentioned in the letter, no."

"The cuts were amateurish, the body drained of blood?"

"According to the letter, yes. The letter did say that this victim was nearly identical to those found previously."

"Was there any reason given in the letter to say that Edward Crowley and his tutor were not involved?" Ciel asked.

"No, young master," Sebastian said. "However, what will you do if, much like a chicken with its head cut off, you find that severing the head only creates further chaos? Supposing that you misjudge this situation, you may find that Crowley's followers are more troublesome without someone to guide their efforts."

For a long moment, Ciel stared at Sebastian and considered his words. Sebastian rarely voiced a disagreement with anything they were doing. If anything, he agreed too often. Ciel had only asked for the butler's opinion on a few occasions. This was not one of them. He did not like that. Ciel asked, "Sebastian, are you trying to stop me from killing Edward Crowley and his tutor?"

"Not at all," Sebastian replied easily. "I simply do not wish to see my young master in unnecessary danger when it can be avoided. It would seem that some measure of caution might be merited in this situation."

"I have dealt with worse than a teenage boy and a private tutor before, Sebastian," Ciel said, annoyance clear in his voice.

"This is true enough. However, I will stand by what I said, young master. It might be wise to refrain from acting rashly in this case," Sebastian said. What Ciel said was accurate. Even if he commanded the attention of an entire coven of cultists at a boarding school, both Ciel and Sebastian had seen worse over the past three years. Surely, a group of religious devotees could be no worse than an army of mercenaries hired to protect a mansion. Even the knowledge that Basil Rosier was a demon did not explain why Sebastian felt that they needed to be careful in this situation. No, it was not Basil Rosier at all. There was something disconcerting about Edward Crowley himself.

"Why?" Ciel's question was vague, but it was not difficult to guess what he wanted to know.

Sebastian looked down at him. "I do not believe that Edward Crowley and his tutor are as simple as they appear."

"Is there something that you aren't telling me, Sebastian?" Ciel asked. He was very well aware that there were times when Sebastian chose to omit information. He was certain that this was one of those times. "What is it? Tell me."

"Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier are much like you and I, young master," Sebastian said.

"What do you mean?"

"They are both dangerous. There may be more to them than there appears," Sebastian responded. His mind was on the day before, when he had grabbed Edward Crowley by the throat and thrown him heavily against a wall. The impact of such a hit could have killed a grown man, yet Edward Crowley had crawled away and still made an effort to get his dagger. Sebastian had no explanation for it, but he did not think that he had misjudged his own actions.

From his position behind the desk, Ciel watched Sebastian carefully. Feeling annoyed with the butler, he finished shuffling the rest of his papers into a drawer and stood. "I'm ready for bed."

~

After putting his master to bed, Sebastian finished the rest of his duties around the house. He checked the kitchen to make certain it had not been blown up. He checked to make certain that things were ready for morning. Even though the hour was late, Sebastian prepared luggage and other necessities to leave in the morning, just as his young master had instructed. Then, as he did nearly every night, he walked to his own quarters. Sleep was not something that demons required, but it was something he was capable of and enjoyed. It was a luxury. It was also part of his human charade. The other servants would have found it strange if he was never in his room for any length of time.

As he paced down the hallway with a candlestick in hand, Sebastian thought about the conversation that he had with his master in the office. The boy was frustrating beyond belief at times. Sebastian, however, was not certain why it bothered him. After all, Ciel Phantomhive had gotten himself in trouble before. Truthfully speaking, it seemed to be a hobby for him. This was not the first time that he had been in danger or had purposefully put himself in danger. It would not be the last. Even so, Sebastian could too easily picture the sight of his young master's dead body lying on that wooden table, blood dripping from his arms.

Pushing that image out of his mind, Sebastian decided that it did not matter. He would do his duty as the contract commanded and as a butler of the Phantomhive household. Reaching up, Sebastian turned the handle on the door of his room and stepped inside. He lit a lamp just inside the door and blew out the lit candle that he had carried with him. When he turned to step further into the room, he looked toward his bed and stopped in his tracks. Sitting on top of the small brass bed was the last person he wanted to see just then. Grell Sutcliff.


	6. Chapter 6

Grell Sutcliff reclined easily on Sebastian's small bed. The cast-iron rails stood in dark contrast to the shinigami's bright red hair and coat. A foot or two away, the chainsaw death scythe that he was so fond of rested on the floor at his feet. Upon seeing Sebastian enter the room, Grell hopped to his feet and pranced across the small space so that he could be face-to-face with the object of his misguided affections. "Ah, Sebas-chan! I've missed you!"

Dodging easily, Sebastian hit Grell in the face with the door as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. The door itself was not very thick but, with some luck, it might prevent the other servants from hearing that someone else was in the head butler's bedroom. Grell howled, clutching at his nose. "Ow! That hurt! You need to be gentler with a lady's face, Sebas-chan!"

"What are you doing here?" Sebastian said, his voice neutral as he looked at the man in front of him.

"You're so mean to me!" Grell turned to look at him, still sniffling lightly as he rubbed his nose. "And here I came to follow up on our agreement, too! I just couldn't wait to see you again, especially not after our passionate encounter the other night..."

"Firstly, I do not remember verbalizing any sort of acceptance to your proposal," Sebastian said, "and secondly, even if I had, you have received more than enough in payment."

At mention of the kiss, Grell swooned. Sebastian's expression darkened into a frown. That particular gesture had decidedly not been one of his finer moments, but it -had- bought him time to revive his young master and take the boy away. Nevertheless, it had not been an agreement to the bargain that the shinigami had offered. That particular fact had obviously not registered with Grell, who hugged himself and sighed blissfully at his own train of thought.

"Surely, the gates of Heaven would pale in comparison to your sweet kiss! However," Grell paused, tapping a finger to his own lips as he looked at the butler, "are you really going to go back on your word? I always figured you to be pretty straightforward. I love a man who isn't afraid to say exactly what he thinks! Your touch was verystraightforward. You got me all tingly and hot..."

Sebastian took a step backward as Grell stepped toward him. Standing flush with the wall, Sebastian's eyebrow twitched at Grell's words. "I do not lie. It was you who failed to specify exactly what you wanted in exchange for your agreement. You are also the one who did not realize that I had not given my agreement to your particular wishes."

"Isn't it obvious?" Even though Sebastian had stepped away, Grell had wiggled his way closer. He stood less than a foot away, his thin body leaning heavily toward the butler. "I want you, Sebas-chan. All of you."

"Regretfully, I am entirely unavailable," Sebastian said, his voice not regretful in the least. The demon took a wide step to the side, skillfully evading Grell's hands as the shinigami reached up to take hold of his tie. "I've told you before, my entire being, body and soul, belong to my young master."

"That brat really has you wrapped around his little finger, doesn't he?" At mention of Sebastian's master, the look of wistful longing on Grell's face quickly turned to one of disgust. He paused in his efforts to get closer to Sebastian. "He's nothing but a scrawny little brat, someone's sloppy seconds, and yet you follow him around like a lovesick puppy. It's disgusting! You need someone who can give as good as she gets, Sebas-chan."

"It is because of the contract," Sebastian said, annoyance clear in his voice. His patience was quickly running out, "and I will thank you not to insult my young master."

Finally getting a grip on Sebastian's tie, Grell wiggled the tip of it out of the butler's waistcoat and ran his fingers down the length of silk. Quirking an eyebrow, he leaned up towards the butler's face. "You aren't in love with him, are you? He's going to break your heart, you know..."

"Most unfortunately," Sebastian said as he grabbed Grell by the throat, "if I were to kill you in this room, it might damage some of my young master's belongings. Therefore, I will give you a choice. If you would like, you may leave of your own volition. You would be undamaged and leave this house and its things undamaged. Otherwise, I will escort you out of the house, in which case I cannot guarantee that you will be in one piece when you depart."

"You may certainly esc-" Grell's voice cut off as Sebastian tightened his grip on the man's throat. Letting go of Sebastian's tie, Grell reached up and tried to pry the demon's fingers away from his throat. His fingers scrabbled uselessly over the cotton gloves. After a moment, Sebastian's grip loosened enough to allow Grell to breathe. Panting, Grell shouted as best he could, "You wouldn't dare hurt a lady!"

The look on Sebastian's face clearly begged to differ. Just then, Sebastian would have greatly enjoyed nothing more than doing just that. "Mr. Sutcliff, threatening my master will not endear you to me. I never agreed to your offer, and claiming that I did is a true sign of ignorance. I have had more than enough of your antics for one day. You will leave now, either by your own choice or by mine. I can assure you that you would benefit greatly from making the decision yourself."

"You ungrateful son of a whore!" Grell shouted indignantly, seemingly forgetting that Sebastian's hand was still around his throat. Giving up on flirtation, he turned quickly to anger. "You're lucky that I didn't just leave the little whelp on the list! Will is already suspicious and I-"

Thud.

Grell's voice died in his throat as both he and Sebastian turned to stare at the door. Thud. A low, slow pounding sound was coming from somewhere on the ground floor of the mansion. The sound was incredibly loud, but it was not likely that it would wake the rest of the household staff. They were far from the source and human ears were weak. However, both the shinigami and the demon could hear the noise very clearly. Sebastian turned back to Grell. "You were saying?"

"It looks like we will have to conclude this later, Sebas-chan," Grell said, "It's time for me to go to work."

Sebastian dropped the shinigami unceremoniously on the ground. "Work?"

Grell stood up and dusted himself off. Giving Sebastian a longing look, he walked over to the bed and picked up his chainsaw. "As much as I treasure every moment we share, I didn't come all the way out here justto see you, Sebas-chan. I have five collections that they are making me take care of," Grell grinned, batting his eyes and blowing a kiss at Sebastian. "Of course, next time, I'll have you all to myself."

The pounding sound continued in the background. Sebastian ignored the last half of Grell's comment. The part about there being collections in the local area was baffling. After all, the Phantomhive manor was the only estate around for several miles. They were well outside of London. Farms and other estates were their only neighbors, and they were all at a fair distance from the property. Frowning, Sebastian asked, "Where are these collections?"

Grell smiled, showing every one of his sharp teeth. "Here."

Without another word, Sebastian picked up the lamp that he had lit previously, opened the door and vanished into the hallway. In the hall, he could hear the pounding much more clearly. Mindful of the lamp in his hand, he walked quickly upstairs and followed the sound. Moments later, he stood in front of the main door to the house. When the pounding paused, Sebastian placed his hand on the handle and turned it, pulling the door open.

Standing in a light rain on the doorstep was Edward Crowley. He was dressed in a wool cloak and smiling brightly. At his side, Basil Rosier looked like a poorly dressed statue. Strangely, neither of these things were what Sebastian noticed first. His attention promptly went to what Basil Rosier was holding. Finny, unconscious and bloodied. Rosier moved one arm, revealing that he held a pistol in one hand. The barrel was pressed firmly against the side of the young gardener's head. Edward Crowley took a step forward. "We would like a word with Earl Phantomhive, if you please."

~

Sebastian placed his hand on Ciel Phantomhive's shoulder, shaking the boy gently to wake him up. "Young master."

Bleary blue eyes opened into the near-darkness that encompassed the room. A couple of oil lamps were lit, but everything was still dim. The deep shadows that crept in the corners looked like phantoms, the flickering light making them appear to dance. Ciel blinked twice, clearing the illusion from his eyes. Despite the lamps, there was no getting around the fact that it was still dark. It was nowhere near time to wake up. Looking at Sebastian, he attempted a glare and failed. Yawning, he grumbled, "What's the problem? I'm sleeping."

"I am very sorry to have to rouse you at such an hour, young master," Sebastian said, "but Edward Crowley would like to speak with you."

In an instant, Ciel was awake. He stared at Sebastian. "He's here?"

"Yes," Sebastian said. The butler was already pulling clothing out of the wardrobe that stood against the far wall. "He is currently in the sitting room, along with Basil Rosier."

Ciel sat up properly and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "When did they arrive? Wait. Sebastian, why did you allow them in?"

"They arrived only a few moments ago." Sebastian unbuttoned Ciel's nightshirt and quickly replaced it with a dress shirt. "I thought it best not to turn them away..."

Ciel nodded.

"... especially since they have a hostage."

"What?"

"When I answered the door, I discovered Mr. Crowley and his companion standing in the rain. They were escorting Finny, who appeared to be unconscious. A gun was being pressed to his temple. They apparently felt that this might help them to talk their way into the house," Sebastian told Ciel as he helped him into a pair of shorts. "I also do not believe that knocking on the front door would have been their preferred method of assault if they intended to murder you outright, therefore I permitted them entry. I suspect that they captured Finnian as he finished his duties this evening, as I personally have not seen him since dinner."

"That would mean that they've been watching the house for some time. At least for a portion of today," Ciel said. His eyes studied Sebastian, tracing over his face in the darkness. "You didn't notice their presence?"

"No, young master, I did not," Sebastian said, his voice quiet. Gloved hands worked quickly, studiedly fastening buttons and straightening clothing. Socks and garters were fastened without a second thought. Shoes were slipped into place and properly buckled. All the while, Sebastian watched his master's face.

Even though it was early, Ciel looked as awake and alert as if it were the middle of the day. Even though the young earl was not looking at anything in particular, Sebastian knew that he was going over everything that he knew about Edward Crowley and the current situation. Many a police detective could learn a thing or two from the detail and study that Ciel Phantomhive put into his assignments, especially the ones that he personally became entangled with. For a boy of only thirteen, Ciel had every bit as much dedication as a man twice his age.

Sebastian had been silently dreading the trip to Tonbridge the next day. He had not been anxious to have his young master anywhere near the two assailants that had so recently stolen the boy's life. He had hoped that they might have a little more time before that happened. After all, Ciel had been seriously injured. While those injuries had been treated and he was recovering quickly, even for a human, he was still not in an ideal condition. Sebastian wanted to be certain that Ciel would be able to hold his own if the need arose. He disliked the fact that not only was his young master still injured, but that the very cause of those injuries was in the sitting room of the Phantomhive mansion at that very moment. With the trip to Tonbridge, he had hoped that they might have another week. Instead, they would be facing the two people that Sebastian had been hoping to avoid after only a few moments.

Ciel Phantomhive had dealt with criminals of all shapes and sizes before. Sebastian was well aware of that fact, and the boy had his complete confidence on such matters. In more than one case, Ciel himself had been held hostage. However, they had never been in a situation where their opponent had been an unusually tough human who had a demon at his side. Sebastian had not told his master of Basil Rosier's true nature. He had hoped that there was a chance that the subject would never need to be discussed. Demons frequently stayed out of human notice. After all, the last thing that a demon needed was to be discovered. While most humans would not be able to destroy a demon, they could certainly make their life a living hell. When a demon made a spectacle the way that Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier had done with their cultists and sacrifices at Tonbridge, the demon involved would typically move on before they had been detected. This was clearly not the case this time.

Easing a cravat around his master's neck, Sebastian tied a bow in the ribbon. When he finished, he kneeled down in front of the bed to fasten the buttons on his master's jacket. Ciel watched him quietly. "Sebastian?"

"Yes, young master?"

"Why do you seem so distracted?"

"My apologies, young master," Sebastian said, "I am not distracted. I am simply thinking."

Sebastian glanced up at the boy that was sitting in front of him. Ciel's eyes looked at him curiously, the pentacle that marked their contract glowing faintly in his right eye. The flickering light of the lamps played over his skin, giving him an otherworldly look in the darkness. The silence was unnerving. There was nothing left to interrupt the train of thought that was truly bothering Sebastian. In the sitting room, no more than a hundred yards from where he and his young master were, Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier were waiting. They had killed Ciel Phantomhive once before. They clearly had no problem with using violence. If he were not careful, Sebastian knew that Ciel might die again and that there would be no bringing him back if that happened. More than anything, Sebastian knew that he could not allow that to happen.

Reaching up, Sebastian ran his hands through Ciel's hair. Without the aid of a brush, he straightened the strands so that they laid in some semblance of neatness. Pulling his hands away, he reached to the side of the bed and picked up Ciel's eye patch. He had retrieved it from the nightstand a few moments before. Lifting the patch, he tied it in place, letting his fingers rest in the slate strands of hair for a moment as he looked at the boy in front of him. Ciel regarded him with his uncovered eye, eyebrow raised questioningly. He clearly wondered what Sebastian was doing. Sebastian's lips turned up easily into a soft smile as he watched the curious expression on his master's face. All too clearly, he could hear Grell's words from earlier.

You aren't in love with him, are you? He's going to break your heart...

Words mattered little. Sebastian only knew one thing; he would not lose his young master. Very slowly, Sebastian leaned upward and kissed Ciel. The caress was soft and sweet, the faintest of touches between their lips. As he pulled away, Sebastian's fingers drifted away from his master's hair. He stood up and dusted off his clothing. His voice was soft as he said, "Please be careful, young master."

Ciel stared at him, wide-eyed and clearly shocked. His mouth fell open in surprise. "Sebastian w-"

Not giving Ciel time to finish his sentence, Sebastian walked to the door of the room. Bowing lightly, he gestured toward the hall. "Shall we?"


	7. Chapter 7

The darkness from the rest of the house did not touch the interior of the sitting room as Ciel Phantomhive walked inside. A fire blazed brightly in the hearth. Lamps had been lit in several places around the room. It was as bright as day.

Sitting on one of the couches in front of the fire, Edward Crowley was sprawled across the furniture as if owned the house. His arms rested across the back of the sofa, the fabric of his coat sleeves lining the wooden backboard. Crowley's brown eyes were on Ciel the moment that the earl walked into the room. Sebastian followed, standing two steps behind his master. Nodding his head in acknowledgement, Crowley said, "How nice of you to join us, Lord Phantomhive."

For a long moment, Ciel did not respond. His eyes drifted from the impeccably dressed boy lounging on the sofa to the stiff figure of Basil Rosier. The tutor stood behind the couch. With hair nearly as pale as his skin and wearing poorly chosen casual wear, he looked like a badly dressed statue. In his arms, Rosier was still holding Finnian. Despite the firm grip he had on the gardener's throat, Rosier had a nervous look about him. He kept glancing around the room and fidgeting where he stood. Ciel frowned and turned his gaze back to the boy sitting on his couch. Tersely, Ciel asked, "What do you want?"

"Oh, don't be like that, Phantomhive. We should be friends! Especially since we have so much in common," Crowley said. He sat up, leaning forward. The expression on his face slipped into one of mocking concern. "Let's not let a little misunderstanding stand in the way of what could be a wonderful friendship. Surely you can overlook a little thing like that."

"Misunderstanding," Ciel said flatly, disbelief in his voice. "You tried to kill me. Why would I 'overlook' something like that?"

"Oh, I didn't want to kill you, Phantomhive. I just needed to be sure."

"Be sure of what, exactly?" Ciel asked, staring at him.

"That you and I were the same," Crowley said. Sitting forward on the couch, he reached up and unbuttoned the first three buttons on his shirt. Giving his tie a tug, he loosened it. The collar of his shirt fell open. Crowley tilted his head back. In the flickering light of the fire, Ciel stared at what the open collar revealed. There, at the base of Edward Crowley's throat, was a blood red inverted pentagram. The mark was not a tattoo or something applied with ink. It glowed dimly, even in the light of the room. Edward Crowley held a contract with a demon. Ciel glanced once more at the tall figure of Basil Rosier, standing silently behind the couch. The nervous look had vanished from his face entirely. Rosier looked sharp and alert, staring at the darker figure of Edward Crowley on the couch before him. Crowley looked up at Ciel. "I didn't want to kill you, but only one of them could have saved you from what I did to you. That's how I knew for certain."

Ciel was not happy at this new discovery. Anger teased at the edges of his nerves. He had been wondering what it was that Sebastian had not told him. Now, he had a pretty good idea of exactly what that information was. That also explained why Sebastian had not simply subdued both of their visitors when he discovered them on the doorstep. There was little doubt in Ciel's mind that Sebastian had known what they were. Sebastian should have told him. He would have to confront the butler. Now, however, was not the time. He needed to deal with the situation at hand, preferably without losing one of his servants. For now, Ciel would have to entertain Crowley and try to find a way out of this mess.

Interpreting Ciel's silence as a positive reaction, Crowley's face turned smug as he rebuttoned his shirt and fixed his tie. "See? We're not so different, you and I. Let's stop this foolishness and talk."

"All right," Ciel said, sitting in one of the tall-back chairs nearer to the fire, "let's talk. However, I would appreciate it if you would return my gardener to me first."

"Of course," Crowley said, waving his hand nonchalantly. Timidly, Rosier emerged from behind the couch and placed Finny into one of the other chairs in the room. As soon as Rosier had retreated to his place behind the couch, Sebastian walked across the room to gage the injuries that had been dealt to the gardener.

"You said you wanted to be sure," Ciel said, watching Sebastian, "but how did you even guess? How did you find out about Sebastian and I, and what he is? Also, how did you find me?"

"Very easily," Crowley replied. "Basil told me about your butler. We saw you the very first day that you came to Tonbridge School, though I doubt you noticed us. He tells me that demons smell differently than humans. They look different, too. Just a little too perfect, you know? They can imitate a human appearance, but they tend to go too far in perfecting it. Or not far enough, in Basil's case. Your butler is flashy to begin with, and he does little to hide that.

"The contract was not hard to deduce. Why else would one of their kind stay so close to a human? Even with the contract, I don't really understand it. As for how I found you, that's hardly a mystery. There is only one Ciel Phantomhive in all of Britain, you know. You were not difficult to locate. Though, I will admit that I was surprised to learn that you were an earl. Not to mention an earl who works directly with Queen Victoria."

Ciel stared at him. "What is it that you want, Crowley?"

"I've told you before, haven't I?" Crowley said evenly, resting his arms on the back of the couch once more. "I want power."

"What kind of power?" Ciel asked.

"All kinds, though you should have known that. We've talked about this before, you know. And, after all, you're the same as I am. Why else would you have such an... interesting servant by your side?" Crowley smiled brightly, flashing white teeth. He turned an admiring smile toward Sebastian as the butler walked back to stand beside the chair that Ciel sat in. Sebastian frowned at Crowley, showing disdain in a way that he rarely did in front of guests. Crowley's smile widened. "Useful tools, aren't they?"

When Ciel did not respond, Crowley sighed and looked at the earl. "I desire power of all varieties, and I have a great deal of it already. However, what I have is not enough. I want more. You're like me. I'm sure you know what we could achieve if we would just work together. You and I, we could achieve the unimaginable."

"That's all well and good," Ciel said, "but power is meaningless if you're just going to lose your soul at the end. Your 'tool' comes at a price."

At that, Edward Crowley started laughing. The sound echoed through the room, ending nearly as quickly as it began. Ciel stared at him. "I'm sorry if I fail to understand what is so amusing. Perhaps you could enlighten me."

"My dear earl," Crowley said, still smiling, "this is where you and I differ."

"How so?"

"My soul was never a part of the bargain that I struck with Basil Rosier." Crowley's smile widened as he watched the frown that was quickly darkening on Ciel's face. "I am not surprised to learn that your own contract concludes in your demon having a meal, though. Most people would not venture to consider other alternatives, other options."

"What do you mean?"

For a long moment, Crowley did not respond. He appeared to be in thought, perhaps considering how to phrase his response. "You know, Phantomhive, your situation is very much a cliché. Cliché, but not impossible. You could foreseeably draw your contract out for years, decades even. Maybe you are already doing so, I am uncertain. How long has your butler been with you, earl?"

"You'll forgive me if I fail to see what you are trying to get at," Ciel responded. He did not intend to answer Crowley's question. What little patience he had was quickly running out. "Are you seriously suggesting that I purposefully try not to fulfill the terms of my contract with Sebastian, simply to keep my soul?"

"Yes."

The idea of not fulfilling the terms of the contract was not something about which Ciel had ever thought. Considering the idea, he found it offensive. Repulsive, even. Glancing at Sebastian out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the butler was thinking similar things. Though Sebastian had not spoken during the entire interaction, he was frowning darkly. Rather than voice his opinion, Ciel asked a question. "Is that what you've done with your own demon, then?"

"No," Crowley said, his expression falling flat. "My contract with Basil has already been fulfilled, even though it is still on-going."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe, someday, I will explain," Crowley said. "For now, I simply wish to discuss the possibility of a partnership."

"Partnership? I should have you killed for everything you've done," Ciel said flatly.

Edward Crowley looked almost bored as he responded. "Oh, you can try. I might get some entertainment out of that. I think you will find that you might run into a couple of problems with that particular plan, though."

"What problems might those be?" Ciel asked.

"I confess that I am a little disappointed, Phantomhive," Crowley said, sighing. "I thought you would have at least figured out one of the obstacles in your path to having us killed."

"Enlighten me, then," Ciel said.

"You said that you should 'have us killed,' yes? So, you obviously aren't planning to do the job yourself. Forgive me for being so blunt, but I get the feeling that your... butler... does all of your dirty work for you. That's good, that's what a slave should do." Crowley's dark eyes flickered to Ciel's face, looking for a reaction.

Ciel stared back at him blandly. "I am perfectly capable of handling myself, Crowley. However, I believe that Sebastian might enjoy being the one to deliver you into death's hands."

"And therein lies your problem," Crowley said, his voice as light as if he were commenting on the weather. "I am well aware that your butler is a demon, just as Basil is a demon. The wonderful thing about demons is the fact that they are immortal, you know. With the exception of using one of the few exotic weapons that could do the job properly, it is completely impossible to kill them.

"Supposing that your butler did manage to defeat Basil, took the time to cut him into miniscule pieces and then tossed those pieces into the Thames, it would be nothing more than an annoying delay. Basil wouldn't actually die. And, really, what's the point in killing a demon? All that would do is send them back to Hell. Home sweet home."

"Even so, that would still leave you defenseless," Ciel said. He shifted in his chair, never taking his eyes off the other master and demon that were only a few feet in front of him. The entire conversation made him uneasy. He had never before found himself on even footing with someone like that. Edward Crowley not only knew what Sebastian was, but also had his own demon at his disposal.

"You're quite right, you know," Crowley agreed. "With Basil out of the way, you could easily attack me. However, I must admit that I find that particular scenario to be incredibly unlikely."

"Why?"

"You asked about my contract being ongoing. So, I'll let you in on a little secret." Leaning back on the couch, Crowley smiled at Ciel. "Did you know that demons don't have to be in a contract to eat souls? And likewise, those in a contract can also devour souls other than the one that they are tied to. Basil gives me knowledge and power. In exchange, I fix him lunch."

Ciel listened to what Edward Crowley said. As the boy in front of him spoke, his words took on a new and menacing quality as their meaning began to sink in. Suddenly, the murders at Tonbridge School had an entirely different meaning. Ciel had assumed that they had been the work of an occult group. Even after discovering that Edward Crowley was behind the murders, he had supposed the Crowley might have derived some sort of twisted enjoyment out of the murders. He had been wrong. The victims had not been killed for occult purposes or for the sheer enjoyment of it. There had been multiple reasons behind every one of the killings.

The rituals, with their dark rites and blood-filled mysticism, attracted followers. More people under Crowley's control would give Crowley more power. Edward Crowley had used his followers in the same way that any other murderer might have used a gun or a knife. Each new murder had brought new followers, new tools for him to use. Even the sacrifices, the boys that he had killed, had not been meaningless. They were not murders. They were meals.

Nausea turned in Ciel's stomach as he considered this new information. The only thing that pulled him out of the darkness of his thoughts was the sound of Edward Crowley's voice. "I wouldn't be surprised if your butler hasn't been stepping out on you from time to time, you know, Phantomhive."

At Ciel's side, the frown had vanished from Sebastian's face. Ciel watched him out of the corner of his eye, seeing the dangerously neutral expression that had taken its place. "Sebastian's standards are not that low."

"Oh?" Crowley said. "You know, Basil told me something interesting once. He said to me that, while they don't have to eat to survive, demons become weak if they don't eat. They lose their strength and become easier to wound."

Pausing, Crowley looked at the expression on Ciel's face. At the sight of the earl's dark frown, Crowley started laughing. The sound was high pitched and giddy, like a small child. When he stopped laughing, he spoke. "Oh, he tells me that it can take decades - maybe even centuries - before they reach an even near-human level. But, if what you say is true, how long has it been since your butler had a snack?"

The threat behind the words was obvious. At Ciel's side, Sebastian still had not interjected into the conversation. Ciel did not think he would; it would be impolite. That did not change the fact that he could tell that Sebastian was not happy with the situation. Ciel was no happier with the situation than his butler was, but this new information was problematic. There was no way to tell if Crowley was lying. Even if he was not, he had no way to know how much of an advantage or disadvantage Sebastian would have against Basil Rosier if it came down to a fight. Finding out the hard way was definitely not ideal. Quietly, Ciel said, "You still haven't told me exactly what it is you want."

"What I want, for now, is to destroy the British government. I will eliminate the current system and put my own into place, with myself at the head. I desire power, and control over a country is power that I can use to achieve even more," Crowley said, his voice serious. "With the power that Basil has granted me, along with your own power - both supernatural and political - it would be child's play to do so."

"Are you aware of exactly what that would entail?" Ciel asked, disbelieving. "You would have to eliminate the Queen, her heirs, the H-"

"The House of Commons, the House of Lords and at least twenty of the closest relations to Queen Victoria would have to be eliminated. Many major political buildings would also need to be destroyed. All said and done, that's more than 1,000 people that would have to be killed nearly simultaneously," Crowley said. "I have done my homework, Phantomhive. I assure you, the numbers are not problematic. Even then, there would be more that would have to be done."

As the Queen's guard dog, Ciel found that suggestion to be a serious offense. Every inch of him wanted to do nothing more than kill Edward Crowley right then and there. As Earl Phantomhive, he wanted to stop this lunatic plan to destroy the very government for which he worked. No, he -had- to stop it. The logistics it would take to orchestrate such a feat meant that it was more than likely impossible. Yet, Crowley was talking about it as if it were a reality that was going to happen. If he had any intention of carrying through with it, he had to be stopped. What had started out as an assignment from the Queen to put a stop to a series of murders was quickly turning into an assignment to save the Queen herself.

The problem stood in the fact that he had no idea whether or not Edward Crowley had been telling the truth. Not just about his plan to destroy the government and his ability to do so, but also in the information he had given about demons. This held doubly true for the statements that he had made about demons that did not eat. Engaging Edward Crowley and his demon before they could even insure that something could be done about the plot against the government would be foolish. Ciel knew that he did not have enough details to act decisively.

For the time being, Ciel would have to feign interest in the plan. He would get to know Crowley and look for a weakness that he could exploit, a downfall. Leaning forward in his chair, Ciel pretended to be interested. "Your plan is very ambitious, but it seems as though you've thought it through. I confess that I am intrigued. I would like to hear more."

"I thought you might come around. Very well, I will tell you what I have already set up," Crowley said, sitting back once more. "In two days' time, a group of my followers will be meeting with me to make the final arrangements for our little coup. I have already begun to set things up, you see. Presumptive, perhaps, as it would be difficult to pull off without your particular brand of assistance but... well, I had faith you, Phantomhive.

"We will assassinate the members of the royal family first. The ensuing chaos will surely rally members of the various Houses, making them easier to take out in bulk. There are a few other details that need to be worked out, but those will be taken care of during our little meet-up."

"What part am I to play in all of this?" Ciel asked.

"Aside from having a place of glory in the new regime and helping me to push our new-found freedom even further," Crowley said, "you will have one of the most important duties in all of this."

"And what might that be?"

"You're going to kill the Queen."

The words sank into Ciel Phantomhive's mind as Edward Crowley got to his feet and stretched. It was all too easy to understand why Crowley might need someone with political power to get to Queen Victoria. Aside from his duties as the Queen's guard dog, and Her Majesty's fondness for him, Ciel did not wield that much influence within the royal family. However, he held enough that he could request a private audience with the Queen.

Other members of the royal family, even the Prince of Wales, were more easily accessible. With her health declining, Queen Victoria did not venture into public as often as she once did. They would have to go to her, rather than the other way around. While Ciel was not happy about the fact that Edward Crowley was planning to eliminate the royal family, he found the fact that Crowley needed his help curious. "I see."

"It's a good offer. Even better, it will benefit your butler. I've watched the two of you, you know. I can tell how... sentimental you are about the demon," Crowley said, his voice fading into skeptical disgust at the end. "After all, with the two of us working together, he can put away a few square meals."

"I am amazed by the planning you seem to have put into this. I am honored that you would want to involve me," Ciel said, his voice approving. He needed Crowley to believe that he was sincerely interested.

"I'm glad you've come around. I thought you would. That's very good. It saves me the trouble of killing you, anyway," Crowley said, a brilliant smile breaking out on his face. "I even came to give you a ride. You must come to the meeting, you know. I look forward to introducing you to my - no, our - followers."

"That is very considerate of you. I look forward to working with you in the future," Ciel nodded. "I wonder if I might have a few minutes to pack, as I'm certain that you would like to leave as soon as possible."

The smile faded from Crowley's face as he looked at Ciel. For a moment, Ciel wondered if Crowley had just changed his mind or figured out that Ciel was not truly interested in his plan. After the lengthy pause, however, Crowley nodded. "Pack light."

"I will." Ciel stood. Turning to Sebastian, he said, "Take Finny back to his quarters and then meet me in my room to assist me."

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian turned and bowed shortly before walking over and collecting Finnian. Nodding to Crowley, Ciel walked out of the sitting room, followed by his butler and his gardener.

~

Ten minutes passed as Ciel waited in his room, far longer than he would have expected. After entering the room, Ciel lit a lamp for himself and then waited. Then, there was a soft knock at the bedroom door. Sebastian slid quietly into the room. Even without being told what to do, he went to the wardrobe and began selecting clothing. "Young master, do you really intend to go with Edward Crowley?"

"Yes," Ciel said. "We have to stop what they are trying to do. Even if I wished to kill them tonight, it is possible that Crowley's followers would act even without his presence to direct them."

"Oh, is that so?" Sebastian said, a hint of amusement in his voice despite the tension out of which they had both just walked. "Young master, didn't you tell me only a few hours ago that getting rid of Edward Crowley would also get rid of the problem?"

Ciel glared at Sebastian through the dimness of the bedroom. "Shut up. I didn't know what he was planning to do when I said that."

Sebastian paused in removing clothing from the wardrobe long enough to look at his Ciel. Mahogany eyes drifted over to where the boy was standing by the window. While the conversation with Crowley had not resulted in violence, Sebastian did not feel at ease. He was still well aware that Grell was somewhere on the property, and that he had come to complete shinigami work. Five deaths, five collections. There were only five humans on the Phantomhive property, including his young master. Sebastian's voice was quiet as he spoke. "Be that as it may, there may not be another opportunity to strike."

"There isn't really an opportunity right now. They're probably expecting us to try something. We will just have to wait and see how this plays out," Ciel said. "How is Finny?"

"He is alive. He will probably have a monstrous headache when he wakes, but he will survive. When I delivered him to his own bed, I also informed the other servants of what was happening. They will stay in their quarters unless summoned," Sebastian told him. He retrieved a small traveling case and folded two shirts into it.

"Sebastian."

"Yes, young master?"

"Why didn't you tell me what Basil Rosier was?" Ciel turned away from the window and watched Sebastian as the man packed away shorts, socks and other necessary garments. "Why didn't you tell me about Edward Crowley?"

"I had hoped that the subject would never need to be broached." Sebastian looked up at him. "I felt that, were you to learn of the true nature of your opponent, it might drive you to put yourself needlessly in harm's way. My first priority is your safety. Therefore, I thought it best to refrain, considering recent events."

Ciel watched him evenly for a moment. "From now on, you will tell me if we encounter anyone else who is not what they appear. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord."

Turning back to the window, Ciel huffed. In the early morning hours, he could not make out much of anything on the grounds. The moon was only barely visible above the clouds, the half-crescent not enough to send light across the property. Quietly, Ciel said, "There is something that I would like to ask."

"What is that, young master?" Sebastian said. He clicked the traveling case closed, fastening it quickly. Leaving it to rest on the bed, the butler walked over to stand next to his master by the window.

If he noticed Sebastian's presence, Ciel gave no indication of it. "Was he right about demons that don't eat?"

"There is some truth to what he said, yes," Sebastian said. "However, he is poorly informed on the mechanics of it."

Slowly, Ciel turned to face Sebastian. He looked up at the demon, studying his face in the shadows of the room. "Have you eaten anything? Since you found me."

"Young master, demons like Basil Rosier are a poor example of my race. Did you not just tell Edward Crowley that my standards are not that low?" Sebastian asked. Even though his voice was quiet, it seemed loud in the silence of the room.

Ciel looked away, unable to meet Sebastian's direct gaze for long. "Yes."

"Then you already know the answer to your question." In the low light, Sebastian's eyes glowed faintly as he looked down at his master. "There is only one soul that I desire, young master. Yours."

A flush of surprise wound its way through Ciel, who raised his eyebrows at the quiet admission. He turned back to look up at Sebastian. He had never heard Sebastian say anything like that, especially not with an expression like that on his face. Sebastian looked down at him with unreadable eyes, the barest hints of a smile teasing the edges of his lips. With his eyes smoldering in the lamplight, it should have seemed menacing. Instead, it only made the admission seem all the more significant.

If only for a few moments, Ciel let his mind drift away from the dangerous presence that was waiting for him in the sitting room. Instead, he found himself thinking about the demon that stood in front of him. Everything in the room seemed surreal, the feeling deepened by the late hour. It was all too easy to remember their earlier conversation, when Sebastian had woken him up and told him about their visitors. Somehow, he had been so caught up in the situation with Edward Crowley that Ciel had almost forgotten that Sebastian had kissed him. Ciel's uncovered eye drifted down to Sebastian's lips. As if he could tell what Ciel was thinking, Sebastian's smirk widened almost imperceptibly. Quietly, Ciel said, "Sebastian..."

"Yes, young master?"

"Why did you kiss me?"

"I kissed you because I wanted to," Sebastian replied, looking down at the boy in front of him. Slowly, he leaned down toward Ciel. The smile did not leave his face as he continued. "I did not like the thought of letting you walk into the company of danger as you just have without at least knowing how that felt. Does it bother you?"

Ciel blushed, swallowing hard. "No, I just..."

He forgot whatever he was going to say when he looked up at Sebastian. The man was so close that Ciel could feel his breath. This close, Sebastian's eyes looked utterly inhuman. No longer brown, they glowed with a faint reddish hue. The slitted pupils added an otherworldly feel to him. Ciel had only seen that look on Sebastian's face a few times and usually only when the demon was angry or in the middle of a fight. Just then, it did not seem intimidating in the slightest. Ciel stared at him for another half second before he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against those of his butler.

Sebastian's lips were warm and giving against his mouth. One of the man's gloved hands reached up, touching the slate strands of Ciel's hair. Ciel gasped as he felt Sebastian's mouth move against his. Taking that opportunity, Sebastian deepened the kiss, pulling Ciel closer to him even as he devoured his mouth.

In his chest, Ciel's heart was beating a mile a minute as he felt Sebastian's tongue moving against his own. Uncertainly, Ciel responded in kind. A quiet murmur of enjoyment slipped past his lips as he reached up to take hold of the lapel of Sebastian's tailcoat, steadying himself. As quickly as it had begun, however, Sebastian pulled away.

The butler's hand drifted down from where it had buried itself in Ciel's hair. Carefully, Sebastian straightened his master's clothing and retied the cravat around the boy's neck. Ciel stared up at him as he realized what he had just done. He had kissed Sebastian. Not only that, he had wanted to kiss him... and he had enjoyed it.

Sebastian's fingers reached up to touch his face, straightening the eye patch and smoothing his hair. "Young master..."

"Yes?"

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Because I wanted to," Ciel said, meeting his gaze. "Does it bother you?"

"To the contrary, young master. I am beginning to think that I enjoy your touch too much for either of our sakes," Sebastian said, smiling.

Ciel looked away, opening his mouth to respond. Before the words could leave his mouth, a loud knock sounded at the door. Both Sebastian and Ciel turned to look at the doorway. In an instant, Sebastian had crossed the room and opened it.

Standing in the doorway, Basil Rosier had none of the timid, scholarly look that he had worn while hovering behind his master in the sitting room. The sharp features of his face took on a skull-like quality as he grinned openly at them. He looked every bit the monster at that moment, features lit only by the lamp in the bedroom. "He is waiting for you."

"Very well. We're ready." Ciel said, attention focused on the tutor.

Sebastian picked up the traveling case off the bed and walked to the door. As Ciel joined them, Basil Rosier turned and walked back toward the sitting room. Following in the footsteps of the tall demon, Ciel could not help but wonder why Rosier looked like Christmas had come early.

Once in the sitting room, that enthusiastic look melted off Rosier's face as he went to stand behind his pupil. Edward Crowley did not even acknowledge his presence, but first turned to Ciel. "I see that you're packed. That's good. I was wondering what was taking so long."

"My apologies. I'm afraid that I had temporarily misplaced something and had to find it," Ciel said, meeting his gaze evenly.

Crowley smiled. "That's not a problem. Well, with that, I guess there's just one thing left to take care of before we go."

Ciel raised an eyebrow. "What might that be?"

"Loose ends, Phantomhive," Crowley said.

"Loose ends?"

"Of course," Crowley said, walking over to the fire and staring into the flames. "Your servants, you know. They won't like the fact that you've up and vanished into the night."

"You're right," Ciel said, nodding. He turned to Sebastian. "Sebastian, write a note to Tanaka and explain that we've gone to visit Aunt Fr-"

"If I may," Crowley interrupted. Ciel looked at him with poorly disguised annoyance. Crowley ignored the expression. "Leaving a note is all fine and well, but your servants will never believe it. Especially not after your gardener wakes and recalls being knocked over the head by Basil. No, they won't buy into that at all."

Ciel frowned. "What would you suggest, then?"

Turning away from the fire, Edward Crowley grinned. A little bit of the madness that Ciel could remember seeing in him when they had spoken at Tonbridge School seeped through into the expression as he spoke. "Kill them. Kill them all."


	8. Chapter 8

Staring at Edward Crowley across the few feet that separated them, Ciel could feel the heavy tension that filled the air. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the dying fire in the hearth as he considered the taller boy's words. Slowly, Ciel repeated the request. "You want me to kill my servants?"

"Of course," Crowley replied easily. "It's the best solution for everybody, I think."

Ciel could not conceal some of the skepticism that leaked into his voice. "How do you figure?"

"We're getting ready to kill nearly fifteen hundred people, Phantomhive," Edward Crowley said. He turned away from the fire and walked back toward the couch, sitting down once again. "What are a few more deaths when you're getting ready to kill an entire government? On top of that, we wouldn't want to disillusion your servants, now, would we? That little gardener seemed quite taken with you, seemed to think you were a good person. How do you think he would feel, living to see you kill the very queen that you serve? Put them out of their misery before it begins."

There was no appropriate response to a request like that. No matter how much Ciel preferred people to think that he did not care about much of anything, he did care for his servants. The very suggestion that they should be killed was a direct insult to himself and his family. This, combined with the fact that Edward Crowley intended to have Ciel kill Queen Victoria, infuriated him beyond belief.

Even so, Ciel knew that what he needed most was a cool head and a reasonable solution. If he was going to stop the plans that Crowley had in place, he needed to make the other boy believe that he was genuinely interested. He needed to make Crowley believe that he had killed his servants. But how?

Ciel glanced at Sebastian out of the corner of his eye. The butler would be able to figure something out, if left to his own devices. Even so, if Edward Crowley asked to see a body then no amount of brilliance on the part of Sebastian would be able to cover up their lie. That thought mattered little to Ciel. The look on his butler's face told him that Sebastian was every bit as unhappy with the situation as his master was.

A loud crack in the background drew Ciel's attention to the fireplace. He had an idea. Turning slightly toward Sebastian, he said, "Sebastian, the fire has nearly gone out. After you tend to it, go and take care of the other servants."

Sebastian met his eyes for a moment. Offering a short bow, he said, "Yes, my lord."

Everyone in the room watched Sebastian as he strode over to the fireplace. He kneeled beside it. The sitting room was one of the few rooms in the house with an actual lumber keep. Sebastian removed two small logs from it and placed them into the fire, prodding them into the coals. When he had finished, he stood and walked briskly out of the room.

Without a word, Ciel walked back over to the chair that he had been sitting in earlier in the evening. He slid into it comfortably, staring evenly at Edward Crowley from across the distance. In the darkness, the resemblance between the dark-haired boy and his pale tutor was startling. In that moment, they could both have been demons as they sat there and waited for death.

The minutes ticked by slowly, marked by the quiet sounds of the clock on the wall. No one said a word as the three of them waited. The silence around them became deafening, relieved only by the flames that burned in the hearth. Edward Crowley looked up with interest at anything that suggested movement or sound elsewhere in the house. At one point, they might have heard a shout or a scream, but Ciel could not be certain.

After more than half an hour, there was a knock at the sitting room door. The door opened and Sebastian walked into the room once more. Ciel looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "You could have at least cleaned yourself up first, Sebastian."

"My apologies, young master," Sebastian said, "but I did not wish to keep our guests waiting."

Sebastian's usually pristine suit was spattered with blood. Half of the collar of his shirt was also dyed red, with the lightest traces of a droplet sliding down the side of his face. His gloves had been removed, but he held them in one hand, nearly out of sight. What little was left in view made it look as though the gloves had seen the worst of it; they were soaked through with crimson. Sebastian was smiling.

"Is it done?" Crowley asked, ignoring Sebastian entirely. He stared at Ciel as he waited for an answer.

Ciel's gaze drifted from his butler back to Crowley's dark form. "Yes."

Edward Crowley leaned back further on the couch. Ever so slightly, he glanced toward Basil Rosier. Rosier inclined his entire body forward, staring at Sebastian intently. Even to an outside observer, it would have been obvious that he was looking to see whether the butler had been telling the truth. After a long moment, he inclined his head ever so slightly. At that vague motion, Crowley hopped to his feet. "Excellent! Basil can bring the carriage around, then, and we can get going. I see no reason to delay any more if we don't have to."

"As you wish," Ciel said. Turning toward Sebastian, he added, "Get yourself cleaned up. We don't need that mess getting all over everything."

~

Moments later, the four of them stood outside of the front of the Phantomhive manor. The handsome carriage that had pulled into the drive was not one that Ciel recognized. While he had two of his own that he kept at the mansion, the carriage in front of him was not one of his or part of any estate with which he was familiar. The horses, however, were very familiar. Whatever horses Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier had brought with them, they had been changed out for ones from Ciel's own stables.

Sebastian helped his master into the cab, and then turned to allow Edward Crowley to enter. Crowley, however, declined. Smiling, he said, "There are a few matters that I need to discuss with Basil. I'll ride up front for now. Perhaps I will join you later."

With that, Crowley walked around to the other side of the carriage. Sebastian climbed into the cab and closed the door securely behind them, latching it shut. No sooner had the door closed but the carriage began moving. The pace was slow enough as they went around the courtyard circle, but as soon as they had hit the main road, the carriage picked up a hellish pace. It rocked back and forth on its axles, the wheels grinding roughly against the rocks and dirt of the road.

"He's going to kill the horses if he keeps them going at this pace," Ciel said, anger and annoyance in his voice, "and he didn't even light lanterns on the carriage! I pray no one else is out this time of night."

No sooner had the words left his mouth but all hell broke loose. The carriage pitched hard to one side as the horses went berserk, screaming and straining against the harnesses that held them to the carriage. Ciel felt himself tip forward off the seat as a bright flash of light streaked by the window. A loud, ear-splitting scraping sound tore at his ears. It was followed by a resounding cracking sound somewhere outside, just as Sebastian's hands fastened around his middle and pulled him back onto the seat. The carriage rocked once more and then settled back down onto its axles. Letting out a shout of surprise, Ciel said, "What just happened?"

"We were just struck by another carriage, I do believe," Sebastian responded. He looked out the window, staring at the remains of the other buggy through the darkness. The other vehicle had careened away from the road after the impact, striking a tree. It lay on its side, the smoldering remains of a lantern dying in the wet grass. From somewhere just out of sight at the front of it, a horse screamed in pain. Despite the darkness of the night, Sebastian could make out the bright red shape of Grell Sutcliff walking toward the wreckage from the path that lead back toward the Phantomhive manor. A dark frown covered Sebastian's face. Five collections, the shinigami had said, on the Phantomhive property. Now, Sebastian knew, none of them was any member of the Phantomhive household staff or his young master.

"Forget killing the horses. He could have killed us! Sebastian, we should check and make certain that the carriage isn't damaged before he drives off again, and the other carr-" Ciel stopped talking the second that the coach started moving. After a moment, he sat back on the seat and sighed.

"I believe the people in the other carriage are beyond any help that either you or I might be able to offer them, young master," Sebastian said, moving his hands away from where they had lingered on his master's coat after catching him. "At any rate, I highly doubt that Basil Rosier would care to have you yelling at him for his inability to drive a coach."

Ciel huffed, looking away. "What about the servants?"

"They are all alive and well, still in their quarters. I took the time to inform them of precisely what was going on, though I could not tell them where we would be headed as I am not certain of that myself," Sebastian said. "That was very clever of you, having me throw one of the cedar logs onto the fire. Were it not for the thick scent of that particular wood masking the odor, Basil Rosier might not have believed that the cow's blood on my suit was human."

"It was just good fortune that they happened to be in the sitting room," Ciel responded, "since it's the only room other than the study that has the logs right now. Who would have thought that one of Lau's bribes would come in handy in a situation like this?"

"Even Mr. Lau can be helpful from time to time in situations other than what you usually seek him out for, it would seem," Sebastian said, "though he probably wouldn't appreciate his gifts being called a bribe."

Ciel's lips gave the slightest twitch of amusement. "Probably not. Anyway, we were lucky that Crowley didn't ask to see a body."

"Luck had nothing to do with it," Sebastian said darkly.

Ciel arched an eyebrow. "You think they know it was a ruse?"

"It's possible," Sebastian said, "though I can't be certain. They may have wanted to see how you would handle the situation. It's equally possible that they truly believe that I killed the other servants. I think we would be wise not to assume anything in this case, young master."

Sighing heavily, Ciel leaned back against the seat and let himself relax for a moment. He listened to the sounds of the carriage as he watched the darkness pass by through the small window that permitted him a view outside. "Do you know what they're discussing out there?"

Sebastian glanced over at him. "No. The walls of the carriage, along with the sound from the wheels, prevent me from hearing whatever they are discussing. If it were possible to hear outside from in here, or if the reverse were true, we would not have been wise to discuss the servants. However, I must admit that I find that question curious in the first place."

"Why is that?"

"I thought you would have guessed," Sebastian said. "After all, I have never seen Edward Crowley speak so much as one word directly to his tutor, or vice versa. They function more as two halves of a whole than as individual entities."

"I disagree," Ciel said, turning his face to look at Sebastian. "They aren't like two halves of a whole at all. More, it is as if Crowley considers his tutor to be a tool. There is no point in talking to a hammer or a shovel, so he doesn't talk to Rosier, either. He treats you the same way, you know. Did you see how he asked me if you had killed the servants? We might be able to use that. It could be a weakness, in some situations."

When Sebastian did not respond, Ciel looked up at him. The butler was smirking. Ciel asked, "What are you smiling about?"

The smile on Sebastian's face did not lessen as he said, "You once told Madam Red that I was nothing but a pawn, did you not, young master?"

The only response that Sebastian received was a half-hearted glare from his master. Ciel could think of no way to respond to that. Several minutes passed in silence before Ciel said, "I'm tired."

"The carriage is still moving very roughly, but the horses will have to slow soon," Sebastian told him. "Would you like to try to get a little sleep on the other bench?"

"No." Ciel reached up and pulled the top hat off his head, holding it in his lap. Slowly, he leaned up against Sebastian's arm.

Surprised, Sebastian looked down at him. "Young master?"

"Shut up," Ciel murmured sleepily. "I'm cold."

In the darkness, Sebastian smiled. He lifted his arm up, ignoring the annoyed murmur that came from the boy at his side. Ciel pressed himself closer, scooting so that he was directly against his demon's side. Sebastian brought his arm down once more, wrapping it around Ciel. Within seconds, the boy was asleep. The soft sounds of his breath against the butler's coat were a deep contrast to the continual, loud rumblings of the carriage around them. Sebastian watched him through what little light the night sky offered outside of the carriage. Silently, he dreaded what might happen at whatever place they wound find when the carriage finally stopped.

~

The carriage kept up the unnaturally fast pace as it cut through a small section of London proper. The horses slowed dramatically after they had left the city and began to drive into the outskirts on the other side. By the time that the carriage came to a stop, the light fog on the windows of the carriage did nothing to dim the first vestiges of daylight that shone into the cab. The night had passed without incident and without the carriage stopping. Edward Crowley had not joined his guests in the cab.

As the vehicle came to a standstill, Sebastian pulled his arm away from the boy that was pressed snugly at his side. "Young master, you need to wake up now."

Ciel let out the smallest complaint of a groan, but the eye that was uncovered by the eye patch blinked blearily open. "What's going on?"

"We appear to have arrived at our destination," Sebastian said, looking up to the door of the vehicle. The sounds of shoes crunched on the dirt and rock outside for a moment before the door to the carriage opened. Basil Rosier peered timidly inside, looking as though he expected to be kicked. He stepped away and held the door open as Sebastian exited the cab and then helped his young master out and onto the ground.

Once outside of the carriage, Ciel took a moment to observe his surroundings. The early morning fog surrounded a rustic, roughly built cottage that was covered in ivy. The yellow and ochre color of the stone peeked out from underneath of the foliage. All around the house, there was nothing but trees, fields and open road stretching out in every direction. Even though there was no proper way to judge where they were, it was evident that there was no one close enough to see anything that might happen on the property. When Edward Crowley walked around the side of the carriage, Ciel turned and asked him, "What is this place?"

"This is my family's lodge," Crowley said, walking toward the door. "My father used to bring us here in the summer. It hasn't been used regularly in the past couple of years, though. There's a caretaker that keeps it up, but he's gone at the moment."

"Are the people we are meeting with already here?" Ciel asked, looking around for a moment before turning to look directly at Crowley once again.

Crowley smiled. "No. The meeting isn't until tomorrow afternoon, after all. They will arrive in the morning. For today, we have the house to ourselves. It isn't much, but it should be comfortable. Since we're partners now, I thought that we might use the time to discuss things. Before all of that, though, let's eat. I'm certain you're hungry, though I'm afraid that Basil isn't much of a chef. I'm sure we can figure something out."

~

The interior of the house proved roomier than the simple exterior had suggested. While the walls were slightly shabby, the furnishings inside were clean and well kept. The bedrooms were in the upstairs of the house. The kitchen and pantry, a dining room, the washroom and a tiny living area that was walled entirely by a massive fireplace occupied the bottom floor. Numerous pieces of furniture, figurines and various display cases had been shoved into the house. It was fashionably cluttered, as was fashionable just then in the middle classes. Ciel eyed the furnishings curiously as they waited for Sebastian to finish bringing breakfast out. Despite the fact that the house only had a caretaker, Sebastian had managed to find the ingredients for herb omelets and raspberry petit-crepes. Basil Rosier had been shooed out of the kitchen almost immediately, and stood stonily behind his master at the small wooden table in the dining area.

In only a few short moments, the food was on the table in front of them. Ciel and Edward Crowley both ate in silence for a few minutes. Even though he had indicated that he wanted to discuss the current situation and the plan for destroying the government, Crowley seemed to be in no hurry to approach the subject. Since they were eating, Ciel had assumed that it was because the subject would be considered unsuitable for meal conversation. Apparently, Crowley had been merely biding his time. After nearly a quarter of an hour, he said, "You must be looking forward to getting some of your own, Phantomhive."

"What do you mean?" Ciel asked, setting his fork beside his plate after finishing a bite of egg.

"Before I came to your home, I did my research," Crowley said, pushing his emptied plate away from himself on the table. "I wanted to find out more about you. It was lucky for me that you are who you are. There were newspaper articles about the fire that destroyed your house, you know. And your parents, too. Such a shame, a loss like that. It must have been devastating for you. I'm assuming that's where you met your demon? How very fitting, fire being the cause of all of that. The newspaper clippings weren't the only thing, though. There were rumors, too. The rumors were interesting."

"What rumors might those be?" Ciel asked. He did not bother to correct Crowley on where he had truly met Sebastian. That only he and his butler were privy to that closely guarded secret.

"There were rumors about what you do for Queen Victoria," responded Crowley, "and rumors that she may have been involved with the fire that took your family. Once I heard that, I knew for certain that you were exactly the person that I needed to see for this. You must hate her."

Ciel sat back, looking at Crowley across the table. In the early morning light, Edward Crowley did not look like the madman that Ciel knew him to be. His short brown hair was neat and orderly, his smile friendly. His suit, brown like his hair, was perfectly pressed and buttoned. He looked very much like a well-to-do boy from a nice family, the sort of family that people in Ciel's social circles would not have been ashamed of associating with at society events. To Ciel, it seemed downright bizarre to be sitting in a stone cottage in an unknown corner of England and calmly discussing the destruction of the government with someone so clean-cut smiling back at him. Ciel frowned. "You seem very well informed about me, and yet I know so very little about you, you know."

"This is true. It seems only fair that you know a bit about me, as well, I guess. What can I tell you?"

"How did you meet your demon?" Ciel asked evenly, keeping his tone as casual as possible. Even though he had asked the question to redirect the conversation, it was true that he needed more information. The only things that Ciel knew about Edward Crowley were what little Sebastian had been able to tell him, and that had been next to nothing. Before he could think about stopping Edward Crowley's plan, he needed to have enough information to be able to formulate a plan of his own.

Edward Crowley watched him curiously, as though he was surprised by the directness of the question. When Ciel did not change the question or retract it, Crowley frowned slightly. After a moment, he spoke. "When I was younger, I was very close with my family. My father, especially. He was a kind man with a good sense of humor, but he valued strength and power. He had strong opinions, but he supported me in my own decisions. A little over three years ago, he began to get ill. The doctor called it a cancer. A year later, he passed away. I did not handle the situation well. Using one of his knives, I took my own life. Or, rather, I tried to. That mortal sin, combined with my own selfishness and desperation, is what called Basil. He found me in a puddle of my own blood and asked me if I was really happy with dying like that, so powerlessly."

Suddenly, Crowley started laughing. For a fraction of a second, the calm and harmless exterior slipped as he turned and threw a vicious smile towards Ciel. His voice was excited as he spoke. "I could have turned him away easily enough, but I chose the dark path instead. Isn't it ironic? Dying is what gave me an entirely new life. It didn't sit well with Mother, though. She still doesn't know exactly what happened, but she knew that something had changed. You know, just before I left for Tonbridge School, she called me the beast. She said that I was the antichrist, that I'd burn in Hell. And, to think, she doesn't even know what I've been doing in my spare time. Lovely woman, that. She had no idea, none at all, of the power that I have. Power that you will have, too, when we are finished."

"You keep talking about power," Ciel said, "But I still have no idea what type of power it is that you're after. You've said 'all kinds,' but that does not tell me much. What more could you want than what you already have? You seem to know what you're doing, and with a demon at your side..."

"... I can do more," Crowley said, the excitement hastily draining out of his voice. Crowley reached out, running his fingers along the edge of the cup that held a little of the tea that Sebastian had managed to find. Rather than elaborate on that thought, Crowley spoke a little more loudly and changed the subject. "I think it's about time that I actually told you a little more about what I have laid out for the assassinations, plan-wise. I've told you a little, but I guess some detail would probably be helpful for you to know, right? With you here, we can refine the plans even further. We can perfect them. They must be flawless, you know."

Ciel blinked at him, completely baffled by the sudden change in subject. Every time that Ciel had mentioned power and asked for more information, Crowley had managed to redirect the conversation or responded vaguely. In any other situation, with any other person, Ciel would have said that it was a sign of them lying about wanting or having power. With Crowley, something just struck him as being off, wrong. If anything worried Ciel about the situation, it was the fact that he still had no idea what the strange young man sitting across from him was capable of, or even why Edward Crowley felt that he could successfully destroy the government. Ciel needed to know. "Yes, please, elaborate. How, exactly, do you plan to pull this off? I am curious."

"Tomorrow morning, around ten o'clock, eight men will be arriving here at this house," Crowley said. "They have already been told when and where to perform the initial assassinations. Even if something were to happen to one of them, or myself, the killings would still go off without a hitch. After all, each of these men also has a group of people working under them that will carry out the actual assassinations. Firstly, we will be executing a series of very high profile eliminations. I've chosen these particular individuals for their social prominence, ties to Queen Victoria and private work that they do for the government.

"To start, we will eliminate both the children of Queen Victoria and their families. As I'm sure you are aware, the Queen has six surviving children - the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Edinburgh, Princesses Beatrice and Helena, the Marchioness of Lorne and the German Empress. In addition to this, the families of Her two deceased children will also be eliminated. As there are small children involved, I am hoping that this will be viewed as particularly horrific. The Duke of Albany, Prince Leopold, was particularly well liked when he was alive. His son, the second Duke, is five years old and has a sister. That should work out nicely.

"In addition to the royal family, I have a short list of other members of nobility who we will also be eliminating during this first round. I've decided to go ahead and include them because they could cause problems for us. They serve similar functions to you, or have considerable power. Better safe than sorry, I think."

"Who are the other nobles?" Ciel asked, making a mental note of every word that Crowley said.

"Two marquises," Crowley responded, "and a baron. I believe that Marquis Islington and Marquis Middleford are at the top of the list; Islington is in charge of the Queen's intelligence at the moment, and Middleford heads the order of British knights. I'm sure you could see why both could be problematic in the wrong situation. Baron Afton has been known to stop other assassination attempts, though I'm still not entirely certain how. Both the marquises and the baron are in England at the moment. Naturally, a number of the royal family are not, but I have already seen to that matter, as well."

At the mention of the Middlefords, Ciel's blood ran cold. He frowned down at the empty plate in front of him, but showed no other reaction. While Crowley said that he had done his research, it seemed that he might have missed the fact that the Middleford's daughter was Ciel's fiancée. Ciel was quite certain that Crowley would have said something about that fact if he had known about it. It was a mystery how that particular piece of information could have been overlooked. After all, a great deal rode on their engagement both politically and socially. It was even the occasional source of gossip within the social circles. Ciel asked, "Will all of this happen simultaneously? What happens after the assassinations?"

"The assassinations should all take place within the same hour, so that no one is warned of what is happening," Crowley said. "Afterwards; we will wait for a day or two. Just long enough for panic to set in. With that many people dead, we can be sure of a few things. First, we know that the Houses will convene. Secondly, Queen Victoria will almost certainly call upon every form of help she has to stop the killing. That includes you. You should be able to request a private audience with her, with your status, right?"

"Yes."

"Then, you can give her the advice she needs with a bullet to the brain," Crowley said, smiling. "You know, if you hadn't agreed to work with us, you would have been killed during the first round of eliminations, too. It's only a shame that you didn't join us sooner."

Ciel stared at him across the table. "Why is that?"

Crowley's smile widened. "You might have been able to give us some very helpful input, indeed. However, you might be able to do so anyway. For today, though, let's try to enjoy the rest of the day, shall we? We can work out further details tomorrow before my men arrive. Excuse me, our men. A little down time might be nice before we get our hands dirty."

~

While Crowley had suggested enjoying the rest of the day, it had been hard to find anything close to contentment when Ciel had been shadowed the entire day by either Crowley or Rosier. If one was not present, the other was invariably somewhere nearby. Despite the fact that Crowley supposedly wanted a partnership, but he seemed to skim the surface with any information that he gave. In addition to that, even the most casual statements from him seemed to be probing for a reaction. The statements were always subtle, but Ciel did not appreciate the undertones. Then again, Ciel was equally suspicious of Edward Crowley. The earl wondered if it was possible that Crowley knew that he did not actually intend to aid him.

The further the day dragged on, the more that Ciel found he wanted to discuss the situation with Sebastian By the time evening drifted around, however, the only thing he wanted to do was rest. Night brought the only privacy with his butler that Ciel had found throughout the day, as Sebastian was able to bathe Ciel and dress him without any interruption. For once, Edward Crowley and Basil Rosier had found something else to occupy their time. They would not bother the earl or his butler until the next morning, when it would once again be time to eat a contrived breakfaster and discuss plans for the murders that Crowley intended to carry out. Until then, there was some peace and quiet to be had in the miniscule quarters in which Ciel would be staying.

The small room that Ciel had been appointed to sleep in smelled musty, but it was clean and relatively comfortable. Ciel sat on the edges of the small bed as Sebastian examined the stitches on his master's arms. While the boy's body was still crisscrossed with minor cuts and abrasions, the large gashes on Ciel's arms were easily the worst of the damage that Edward Crowley had dealt him. Not a week had passed since the incident and it was still a burning insult to Ciel that he had to sit in a house that belonged to the family of the boy that had so humiliated him. The insult was furthered by the fact that he had to pretend to want to ally himself with someone like Edward Crowley.

Even though the anger remained, the physical signs of the incident were slowly starting to heal. The stitches that Bard had used to sew the cuts closed were not expert, but they were doing their job. Ciel barely registered the twinge of the wounds as Sebastian examined them for any sign of infection. Ciel watched him without complaint. "The cuts bother you, don't they?"

"A bit," Sebastian said, looking up at him, "I do not enjoy seeing you injured. However, they are healing. Do they still hurt?"

Ciel shrugged and pulled his arm out of Sebastian's grip. "Not badly. I really only feel them when I have to hold something heavy, like the abominable china they have in this house."

"Unfortunately, a proper tea set was not something I saw fit to include in your travel necessities," Sebastian replied, smiling at the light frown on his master's face. The smile lasted only a moment before Sebastian said, "Young master, I could not help but overhear your discussion with Edward Crowley this morning in the breakfast nook. I believe that Lady Elizabeth's family was listed as one of the targets for assassination, were they not?"

"Yes," Ciel said, "Crowley thinks that they could cause trouble for him and the plans he has. He's right."

"That entire family is formidable, from my experience, but I am wondering what you intend to do about their involvement. Do you want to try to find some way to step in and prevent something from happening to them directly?"

"I think that they can handle themselves," Ciel said, trying to picture the look on his aunt's face if he suggested that he try to save them. "I can't imagine Aunt Frances being intimidated by something as ordinary as a murderer or assassin. I would not worry too much about them, though it would be advisable to let them know that they are being targeted. Even so, we do need to find a way to let Queen Victoria know what is happening. The sooner we can do that, the better off we will be. While we should be able to clean up this mess ourselves, this is something that she should be aware of."

"As you wish," Sebastian said. He wrapped new bandages over the stitches on Ciel's arms, keeping the cuts covered to protect them as they healed.

Watching him from where he sat on the bed, Ciel thought about the demon kneeled on the floor in front of him. In the past week and a half, his connection to Sebastian had changed dramatically. Sebastian had saved his life, had kept him safe and had protected him the same as he had for the past three years. In that aspect, nothing had really changed. Even when Ciel had woken up and found himself lying on the man's chest, even when Sebastian had kissed him, the demon had remained his butler. However, Ciel could no longer bring himself to say that Sebastian was only his butler. Even though a part of him wanted to deny it, at some point, Sebastian had become something more.

In the carriage, Sebastian had remarked that Ciel had once told Madam Red that he was nothing more than a pawn. Thinking about what Sebastian had said, Ciel knew that he had been lying when he had spoken those words to his aunt. What had originally been a lie had grown. Now, it was the furthest thing from the truth. Ciel knew that he was the very last one to realize it, or perhaps just the last to admit it. The other servants in his staff knew that their young master and his butler were close. For the past three years, they had been able to see the one thing that Ciel himself had been blind to; the fact that he cared for Sebastian. While they would never have guessed exactly how much Ciel cared for his butler, they had not been fooled by the boy's feigned emotional detachment.

Ciel looked down at the man in front of him. He studied the fine features, the soft smile and the sleek black hair of his butler. Ciel did not see a tool or a slave sitting in front of him. He also did not see just a very useful member of his household staff, not even one who was supernaturally talented. He had realized that Sebastian was more to him than just his servant. Even so, he had no idea how Sebastian regarded him. While he was a faithful servant, and while the butler had kissed him, Sebastian's motives were a mystery. Ciel pondered this quietly, and then asked, "Sebastian, why did you ask about Lizzy?"

"I was curious, as I know that you would have a personal interest if she or her family were targeted," Sebastian responded, pulling Ciel's nightshirt sleeves down over the bandages and buttoning them.

Ciel reached down and smoothed out the fabric of each sleeve, one at a time. "Do you dislike Lizzy, or my engagement to her?"

At that, a light smile crossed Sebastian's face. Brown eyes looked up, regarding Ciel with curious amusement. "I quite like Lady Elizabeth, even though she can be trying on the nerves when she is feeling unusually enthusiastic. Despite her girlish tendencies, she is a charming young lady from a respectable family and she will make a suitable wife for an earl such as yourself. I do not harbor any negative feelings towards Lady Elizabeth or your engagement to her, young master."

"Oh, I see," Ciel murmured quietly.

"Is something bothering you, young master?" Sebastian asked. The tone of his voice suggested that it was a statement rather than a question.

Turning his head, Ciel looked away from him, unable to meet Sebastian's direct gaze. He focused at a faded portrait hanging on the wall. "No. I was just curious, that's all."

Soft cotton gloves reached up, touching Ciel's cheek as he turned away. Very gently, Sebastian turned the boy's face back to look at him. For half a second, brown eyes stared at the one blue eye that was left uncovered by the eye patch. Then, Sebastian leaned up and captured Ciel's lips with his own. Heat sparked up between them as Sebastian claimed his master's mouth with his own. The gloved hand on Ciel's cheek slid back into the soft-black strands of the boy's hair, pulling him closer and encouraging him to give into the heated touches. Ciel let out a quiet whimper as he reached out, taking hold of his butler's tailcoat and tugging on it, forcing Sebastian to sit up more straightly in front of the bed. His other arm wrapped around the butler's neck. Tongues danced in a way that was far from the tame kisses they had shared thus far. For a moment, Ciel could think of nothing but the feel of Sebastian's mouth against his own. The demon was everything just then, taking over every inch of Ciel's consciousness and making his head swim.

Sebastian pulled away from the kiss, drawing a disappointed whimper from Ciel's lips. Instead, Sebastian pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw before leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Lies do not become you, young master. If there is something on your mind, you should simply say so."

Ever so slowly, Sebastian sat back and watched the dazed expression that traced across Ciel's face. Ciel stared down at him, unable to formulate a proper response. After a moment, he said, "You. You are on my mind. This, whatever this is, is what I am trying to understand."

"Young master, I do not worry about your engagement to Lady Elizabeth, because you are already mine." With a smile, Sebastian leaned up and kissed him once again. Short and sweet, it carried none of the heat that he had put into the previous caress. The butler ran his left hand through his master's hair, letting it drift down the side of the boy's face as he pulled away from the kiss. His fingers ran across the eye patch, loosening it and pulling it away so that the contract seal beneath it could easily be seen in the dim light of the room. "As for 'this,' that is for you to decide."

Leaning back, Sebastian moved away and took the eye patch with him. He stood and then seated himself in a small wooden chair that he had retrieved from the writing desk in the corner. When Ciel did not respond to what he had said, Sebastian decided not to push the subject. Instead, he asked, "Young master, do you know what you will do about the present situation with the assassinations?"

"Yes," Ciel said, finally meeting his gaze. "Tomorrow morning, I am going to kill Edward Crowley."


	9. Chapter 9

The morning was deceptively calm inside of the small, stone cottage. Ciel Phantomhive sat at the wooden table in the dining room, directly across from Edward Crowley. Soft rays of sunlight came through the curtains, illuminating a fine collection of pastries, eggs and various breakfast meats. Sebastian had been hard at work since very early in the morning, preparing the small feast that had greeted them when they had entered the room. The butler had not allowed the strangeness of the situation to interfere with his master's nutrition or daily meals.

Though the food was genuinely exceptional, neither of the people dining remarked on the quality or taste. Instead, both of the teenagers sat in complete silence. They browsed newspapers as they sipped their tea. Occasionally nibbling on a bite of egg, Crowley seemed to be of the mindset that nothing important would happen throughout the day. Crowley's expression was a blank sort of smile as he ate. The casual attitude that he displayed grated Ciel's nerves. Ciel knew that the morning was anything but unimportant. He had been considering the way this day would unfold since the moment that Edward Crowley had revealed his plans.

In less than an hour, the eight individuals that would be responsible for passing down the final orders for the assassinations of the royal family would arrive at the remote country house. The meeting was intended to finalize the times, dates and locations for the killings and to introduce the perpetrators to Ciel. Crowley's dreams of a partnership of bloody glory would both begin and end in this small house. The quiet sounds of china clinking as cups and saucers collided could do nothing to cover up the gruesome reality of why they were there.

Despite the fact that Edward Crowley had told Ciel that the plans for the murders were already in place, Ciel had not been able to ascertain what sort of groundwork might have already been laid. The fact that the men were coming to confirm the dates and times of the assassinations gave Ciel some hope that, perhaps, the plans were not as final as Crowley had made them seem. That thread of hope was slim, but it was something that had caught his notice. He wondered why anyone would need to confirm plans that were already solid enough that they might be carried out if something happened to interfere.

The quiet sound of liquid hitting china pulled Ciel out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Sebastian refilling his teacup. Sebastian met his master's eyes as he stepped away, raising both eyebrows in response to the unspoken question that Ciel asked. Just like his master, the demon was waiting for something to happen. The tension in the air was palpable. When things did come to a head, it would happen quickly. Both Sebastian and Ciel would need to be ready. The precision and accuracy of their actions would determine the success of their plans."

Certain that Crowley was not looking, Ciel reached down and ran his fingers along the side of his trousers. He could feel the weight of solid metal pressing against the tips of his fingers through the fabric. He had concealed the derringer in a pocket while dressing that morning. Bringing the gun had been Sebastian's idea. The weapon was small enough that no one would detect it unless their hand was on it. Even sitting in the chair, Ciel had found himself momentarily wondering if it was actually there. Having the weapon would matter little if the situation went wrong. When Sebastian was near, weapons were usually a moot point regardless of who held them. In this case, he would not have Sebastian's help. He would only have one chance to pull off the stunt that he had planned. He had to make it count.

At that instant, a sound from the driveway caught the attention of everyone in the room. Two handsome horse-drawn carriages were rolling down the country lane that ended at the back of the house. Edward Crowley looked up from his newspaper, smiling as he also realized that they had visitors. "Oh, wonderful. They're here. I was wondering why they were late."

"I should go and see to our guests," Sebastian said. The butler looked up, following the path of the carriages with his eyes as they pulled out of sight to the back of the cottage. "Please excuse me."

"You should take Rosier with you. That way, one of you can handle the horses and the other can take care of the guests," Ciel suggested, taking a sip of his tea.

"That's a good idea," Crowley agreed, nodding. Not bothering to look over at his servant, he said, "Basil, make it so."

Ciel watched as Sebastian walked out of the room followed by the other boy's demon. When he looked back, Crowley was smiling at him. "It's almost time. Soon, we will be well on our way to true power and glory."

"You must be glad that they've arrived," Ciel remarked. He set his teacup back onto the saucer.

"Quite," Crowley replied. "I have been looking to this for some t-"

A loud, ear-splitting crack filled the air, cutting Crowley's words off in the middle of his sentence. Crowley crushed the newspaper he held in his hands as he startled, looking towards where the sound had originated at the back of the house. "What was that?"

The noise had not stopped. Even from the inside of the house, Ciel could hear wood splintering. There was little question that something had gone wrong. Chaos was quickly breaking out on the back lawn. From somewhere outside the building, a man screamed. The scream was followed by a screeching, animalistic howl that sounded like nothing Ciel had ever heard before. Inhuman. The time had come.

"What the hell is going on out there?" Crowley got to his feet, taking two steps towards the the kitchen, where the back door would lead out to whatever was causing the noise. Ciel stood at the same time. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the derringer. "Something isn't right. That was Basil... Basil never makes a sound unless I tell him, unless he-"

"Was it?" Ciel asked. "I've never heard a demon scream before."

Realization sank into Edward Crowley's eyes as he turned around, eyes wide with surprise. "You. You betr-"

Ciel's face remained blank as he lifted the tiny pistol in his hand, leveling it with Crowley's face. The other boy was less than five feet away. An easy target. Crowley's face contorted into anger as he saw the gun. The expression vanished in an instant. With a practiced squeeze of his finger, Ciel fired the gun. The crack of the pistol echoed through the room and a light puff of smoke colored the air. A hole appeared in Crowley's forehead. Eyes wide, Crowley stared straight ahead as blood beaded up around the edges of the wound. Just as it began to trickle down his face, he fell to the ground.

Lowering the gun, Ciel stepped around the table and toed the corpse, pushing it to the side. Edward Crowley's head flopped limply on his shoulders as the body rolled backwards. The trickle of blood had already managed to cover a portion of Crowley's face and was dripping off onto the wooden floor of the dining room. Brown eyes stared blankly, no longer seeing. Satisfied that his goal was accomplished, Ciel stepped over him and walked into the kitchen. The counter tops were littered with the last of the breakfast ingredients. The entire scene was surprisingly domestic. Ciel ignored that and walked across the stone floor to look out the window onto the back lawn.

A pile of wood and rubbish, barely distinguishable as the remains of a carriage, were strewn across a thirty-foot area around the drive. A dead horse, its body twisted into an unnatural position, lay at the center of it. All around the carriage, traces of the occupants could be seen in various pieces and quantities throughout the grass. Two men were mostly intact, their faces bloodied to the point of being unrecognizable. The bodies on the lawn were both human. A few yards away, a secondary carriage stood mostly in one piece. There were no dead horses. In fact, there were no horses at all. An arm dangled limply out the open carriage door, though Ciel could not see inside. Turning, Ciel looked up just in time to watch as Sebastian stepped in through the rustic wooden door that opened onto the kitchen. The demon tugged a fresh pair of gloves onto his hands as he nodded. "Young master."

"Is it finished?"

"If you are asking whether or not I have disposed of the eight men that were responsible for coordinating the attacks," Sebastian said, "I have."

"What about Rosier?"

"He is indisposed. Like me, Basil Rosier is a demon. Killing him would be tedious and time consuming. I have not destroyed him, since we are on a time constraint," Sebastian said. His dark eyes slid easily past his master, looking into the dining nook and taking in the sight of Edward Crowley's body on the wood floor. "However, as he is no longer obligated by a contractual agreement to his master, I highly doubt that he will trouble us further. My kind are fickle at best in matters such as these."

"So long as he doesn't follow us, I don't care," Ciel said. "You were supposed to get information from the men before you killed them, though. Did you find out when the assassinations are going to take place?"

"Regrettably, no. I asked two of the men. One did not seem to know. The other did not seem to be entirely certain, saying only that it would be within the week. I found that strange, considering the fact that you were told that they were in charge."

Ciel stared at him, knowing that Sebastian was not lying. Strange was a good descriptor for what the demon had just told him. He could not help but feel as though he were missing a piece to a strange puzzle that he had previously thought to have been completed. Standing there was not going to solve anything. He had already gleaned all of the information that he could from the house itself. Dead men would tell him nothing new. Looking up at Sebastian, he said, "We're leaving."

"Where would you like to go, young master?"

"We're going to see the Queen."

~

Ciel watched as Queen Victoria paced across the width of the room, staring out a window as she considered the information she had just been given. Upon arriving, he and Sebastian had been escorted into a well-appointed sitting room that the Queen occasionally met guests in. Sebastian waited behind him, patient and perfectly mannered as his master conversed with Queen Victoria. Still standing, Ciel continued with his explanation. "While I have taken care of the eight people that would supposedly have been in charge of coordinating the attacks, I have been unable to ascertain the exact times or dates of the assassinations."

Despite the fact that his family had worked for the royal family for generations, Ciel had only requested a private audience with the Queen on a few occasions. Invariably, he had found her warm and a little eccentric. Today, the warmth was mostly gone from her mannerisms. She was completely serious, the tone of their meeting echoed in the expression on her face and the slow movements as she walked around the room. Every movement was deliberate and precise, filled with respectability. The few words that she had spoken were intelligent and calculated. While kind, she was also businesslike. Just then, she was truly a monarch capable of ruling one of the most powerful countries in the world. Her mind was entirely on the situation at hand. Ciel wagered that the news that plans were in place to murder her family probably affected her, but he could see no evidence of that in her manner. She did not turn to look at him as she asked, "Were you able to discover the identities of any of the people working underneath of them?"

"No, Your Majesty. I was not," Ciel responded. "If Your Majesty wishes, I can turn my efforts to discovering the identities of the other people involved and putting a halt to their activities. Or, if you wish, I could see that members of your family-"

"No."

"Your Majesty?"

"You have done well, Ciel, to tell me about this threat," Victoria said, turning to face him. "However, I will take care of my family. My concern now is for my people and for the nobles who have been targeted for their involvement with me. It saddens me to know that they are in danger due to animosity aimed towards my family.

"I wish you to turn your attention instead toward the noble families that have been targeted. Once we have eliminated the immediate threat, I will have you turn your efforts towards the people involved. First, let us make certain that the targets of these assassinations survive this assault. You and I are both aware that the Middleford family is more than capable of handling itself. I am much more concerned for Baron Afton and Marquis Islington. Afton already has a capable guard. He will likely fare well. I wish you to go to Marquis Islington."

"I only know the Marquis by reputation," Ciel said. "I do not believe that he and I have ever met."

Victoria gave him an indulgent smile, the gesture making her look older than she was. "As well you would not have, young Ciel. Islington is a dear friend and, like you, someone who has gone above and beyond what I have asked of him. He is a formidable individual, but at the moment he finds himself in a very difficult position. His survival is of the utmost importance."

Slightly surprised, Ciel took the smallest step forward. "Your Majesty, are you asking me to intervene directly?"

"I am." She smiled. "I am placing his life in your hands, though I wish I did not have to put such a burden on you. With him, threats may come from within his own household. You will do well, Ciel. Go to Marquis Islington's estate and stay by his side until you receive word from me. You would do well to arm yourself beforehand."

Bowing deeply, Ciel accepted the orders with as much grace as he could muster. Occasionally, he had received orders from the Queen to act directly. This was the first time that he had been told to put himself in the position to act as a bodyguard. He was poorly suited to the position and he knew it. He was also aware that Queen Victoria knew that as well. It was possible that she expected Sebastian to do what his master could not. The butler's reputation was not entirely unknown to her. Either way, it did not matter. An order from Queen Victoria was as good as law; he would follow it through. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

~

By the time that they had left the meeting with Queen Victoria, it was barely past noon. Time was of the essence, but it was only thanks to Sebastian's inhuman nature that they had been able to travel as quickly as they had. A carriage would have taken hours, wasting valuable time. The meeting with the assassins had not been scheduled until the afternoon. Queen Victoria had been accurate in saying that they would be wise to arm themselves. Ciel did not feel that his derringer would be enough to sustain him through whatever might happen. Changing weaponry necessitated a visit to the mansion. Aside from needing to change weaponry, Ciel was quite certain that the staff would be in a state of panic. He and Sebastian had left quickly and without much of an explanation. He did not want to admit that he was concerned about Finny, who had been injured thanks to their unwanted guests.

Rather than bothering with a carriage and horses, Ciel had given in to Sebastian's suggestion to allow the demon to carry him back to the mansion. At any other house in the country, the sight of the head butler carrying the master of the house back from who knew where would have raised eyebrows. At the Phantomhive manor, it would not be the first time that the servants had seen something like that. Even when events in the house turned strange, the other servants rarely questioned it. After all, everyone in the household was abnormal in some way. They simply assumed that Sebastian was different like they were.

On the walk up to the front doors, none of the servants came out to greet them. Sebastian kept the boy in his arms until they reached the front door, setting him down only before opening them. The instant that Ciel stepped inside, he found himself mobbed.

"Young master!" The familiar voices of Bard, MeyRin and Finny called out as the three servants surrounded their master. Even Tanaka wandered in from the hallway, relief evident on his face. As they surrounded Sebastian and Ciel, it was clear from the expressions on the servants' faces that they had been worried.

MeyRin reached them first. Fists balled up in front of her, she asked frantically, "Young master, are you alright?"

"We thought you were gone!" Finny cried, on the verge of tears.

The surprise that Ciel felt at being mobbed by his staff was quickly replaced by feigned annoyance as he took a step back, accidentally colliding with Sebastian. The butler's hands on his shoulders steadied him for a second before Sebastian stepped away, putting a more proper distance between them. Ciel glanced at him before returning his gaze to his servants. "I'm fine. We took care of the problem."

"Damn good thing, too, 'cause we were about to-" Bard was cut off mid-sentence.

"Despite the difficult situation, the young master and I were able to handle the assailants," Sebastian said. "However, he has an appointment that he must make and is in something of a hurry. Please excuse us."

"Yes, sir!" All the servants chimed at once.

Sebastian turned to Finnian. "You were injured before we left. How are you faring?"

"Ah, Mr. Sebastian was worried about me?" Finny scratched his head in embarrassment, smiling. "My head hurts, but I'm just fine! It takes more than that to get me down!"

"Very good. If you need help in the garden, have Bard assist you with carrying things," Sebastian said. Not bothering to respond to the instant sound of indignant protest that came from the chef, Sebastian turned and escorted his master up the stairs.

~

Once they were in the master bedroom, Ciel made quick work of removing the derringer from his pocket and returning it to the case in which it was normally kept. He would need to clean the weapon later or have one of the servants do it for him. For now, he was more interested in picking out a more suitable replacement to take with him on the new assignment.

Sebastian seemed to be in a similar mindset. Already, the demon had pulled a silver box from one of the drawers in the wardrobe. "Young master, was it really wise to return to the mansion? You will probably have no need of guns, considering the fact that I am by your side. If the assassinations are planned for today, we may already find ourselves arriving too late due to the delay."

"Sebastian, even you cannot be everywhere at once. I prefer to be armed whenever possible in situations like these," Ciel said. He picked up a box of ammunition and examined it before turning to look at Sebastian. "The peashooter that I used with Crowley is hardly acceptable for anything other than close range shots. I also doubt that the assassinations were planned before or during a meeting that was intended to finalize the plans for them. Even if they were supposed to occur today, we should still have time to get to the Islington estate before anything happens."

"Very well," Sebastian relented. The demon opened the box that he had retrieved and pulled out two pistols, examining them to make certain that they were in working condition and acceptable for use. Everything was done quickly and efficiently. While they had time, both master and servant were aware that they should not linger any longer than necessary. Even so, they still needed to consider the situation that they would be walking into. Sebastian asked, "What do you know about Marquis Islington?"

Picking up the box of ammunition, Ciel walked over to where Sebastian stood. He set the box down and took a silver pistol from Sebastian's hands, looking it over. "I only know of Islington by reputation. I've never met him. He is a highly private person and tends to keep to himself. The only thing that I can be certain of is the fact that he has a reputation for loving dogs."

"Dogs?"

"Hunting dogs, very specifically. He keeps several breeds of hounds and is known for their breeding. I have been told that he keeps dozens of the beasts," Ciel said. "If anything does happen at his estate, we'll know just from the sound of it."

Sebastian did not respond to this information. Instead, he asked a question. "Are you bothered by the fact that she did not send you to the Middleford household instead?"

"No." Ciel paused in his inspection of the pistol. "There's nothing that I could do that they cannot do themselves. Even if there were, they would not accept my help. Her Majesty was correct to send me to Islington. We will do the most good there. I'll take these."

"Very well," Sebastian said. "Would you like to carry them with you or pack them?"

"Pack them. Islington has been known to be paranoid. If he insists on searching us, I'd rather not have him assume that we're attacking him."

Taking the pistol from his master, Sebastian slid it back into the box. When he finished, he set the box to the side and kneeled in front of Ciel. Quickly and efficiently, he straightened his master's clothes and hair. "Young master, before we leave, I was wondering if I might ask a favor?"

"What might that be?" Ciel asked, looking down at him.

Sebastian smiled and reached up, brushing strands of slate hair away from both the eye patch and the startling blue eye that was left uncovered. "Please try not to get yourself injured this time."

~

The Islington estate was a massive swath of land that dwarfed the Phantomhive property. The majority of it was covered in thick trees and forest, with only the lawns and gardens having been clear-cut to make way for the house itself. The expansive property was isolated and well outside the city limits. The road that the carriage traveled down seemed to be almost unending path. Ciel watched the passing scenery out the window.

Something about the property was unsettling to Ciel. For a few minutes, he had tried to place his finger on exactly what it was. When it registered, it came as a surprise. Aside from the sounds of the carriage wheels on the gravel and the hooves of the horses, there were no sounds. A large household that was reputed to have many servants and a sizable family, he would have expected to hear the sounds of everyday life nearly the moment that the carriage hit the proper drive that would lead them to the front of the main house. With the number of dogs that the marquis was said to own, there should have been the sounds of barking. Instead, his ears were met with silence. Not even the sounds of birds in the trees kept him company as he waited for the carriage to halt.

The vehicle came to a standstill in front of the massive white stone building. Sebastian opened the carriage door, helping Ciel onto the dirt and gravel that lined the drive. Staring up at the building, Ciel let out a curse. The wooden doors that made up the front entrance were open, pushed back and blocked by debris that resembled crushed wood. Just inside the door, a hand lay on the carpet, unmoving. Quietly, Ciel said, "Sebastian, something has gone wrong."


	10. Chapter 10

Something had gone incredibly wrong inside of the Islington mansion. From their position at the base of the stairs leading to the main doors of the house, the only sign of human inhabitation that they could see was the hand lying on the carpet. The interior of the building was hidden in shadow. Both of them regarded the entrance cautiously.

"Get my pistols," Ciel said, turning to look at Sebastian. "Do you hear anyone inside?"

Sebastian moved to the far side of the carriage and retrieved the small traveling case that he had prepared. In an instant, he had unloaded the set of silver pistols and the ammunition for them. Delivering the weapons to his master, he replied, "No, I do not. However, this property is vast. It is possible that the Marquis, or the perpetrators, are still alive inside of the building."

Ciel considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Let's go."

Together, master and servant made their way up the stairs that led into the manor. The white stone columns and stone exterior were a sharp contrast to the colors that painted the walls inside. From the marble floors to the carefully painted walls, the interior of the house was filthy. Ciel held his gun in front of him and stepped inside.

The detached hand that lay on the carpet was just that, a hand. Polished fingernails and delicate digits indicated that it had belonged to a woman, but the flesh ended halfway down the forearm. There were no other body parts in the entry hall, only a thick smear of blood that had partially congealed on the floor.

Cautious and alert, Ciel led the way through the house. Large, empty halls led through a gallery and sitting room. The dining room was still partially set from the last meal, a plate of fruit and honey sat on the table, surrounded by bread. Ciel looked at the display and then met Sebastian's eyes. The butler nodded. If someone had been cleaning up from a meal, the next place that they needed to check was the kitchen.

A set of plain, white doors led back into the servant's quarters. Ciel pushed the panel open and immediately raised his sleeve to cover his mouth and nose. The instant he stepped into the kitchen, he was nearly overwhelmed by the stench. Sebastian followed, frowning. "This does not bode well, young master."

"No, it doesn't." Ciel stared. There were three corpses in the kitchen. Over a wooden butcher's block, a woman's head, chest and one arm were bent over as though she had fallen. Her legs were on the floor beneath her, unattached to her torso. A pale coil of intestine covered the floor next to her. An older man and what looked like a young girl were visible in the corner by the stove, piled one on top of the other. They were both bloody. Ciel did not move to see what injuries might have killed them. "Sebastian, this is not the work of an assassin. These people weren't killed. They were torn apart."

"Quite," Sebastian agreed. "How would you like to proceed?"

"We're here for one reason. We have to find Islington."

Sebastian surveyed the kitchen. "Do you want to search the grounds? The kennels are likely located in the rear of the property. You mentioned that he was fond of his dogs; I can smell them."

"Forget the dogs, the entire building smells disgusting," Ciel replied. Disgusting was an understatement. Most of the building reeked of vomit or worse. The fact that the servants had been killed recently was a twisted blessing; though they should not have died at all, the bodies at least had not started to smell due to decomposition. "The kennels are not my priority. If the dogs were alive, we would have heard them. If Islington had thought to go there for some sort of safety, it is unlikely he survived. We will finish searching the house first. Since we have covered the first floor, we will need to head to the second story. So far, all we've found are his servants."

"Very well," Sebastian said, inclining his head. He led the way out of the kitchen, and then climbed the wide staircase that led up to the second floor of the palatial house. At the head of the stairs, the landing that separated the various hallways was eerily quiet. On the first floor, the sound of the wind outside had lightly rattled windows and blown open a door. Here, there was no sound at all. Most of the windows had curtains drawn, obscuring the details of the hallways from sight.

Ciel began walking cautiously through one of the halls. He edged into a room, stopping when his foot collided with something unexpectedly. Sebastian's hands were on his shoulders in an instant. Ciel looked up at him questioningly. In response, Sebastian urged him back into the hallway with a light pull on his shoulders. Once he was clear of the door, Sebastian entered the room. A moment later, light flooded in through a window as Sebastian tied back the curtain. Eying the contents of the room, the demon asked, "Who are these people?"

"Islington's wife," Ciel replied, stepping into the room. He lifted his foot to step over the black-haired female corpse that he had unknowingly run into only moments before. Looking at a decadent day lounge in the center of the room, he added, "And his sons."

"Does Marquis Islington have any other family that we might be wise to search for?" Sebastian asked, stepping around the couch and looking at the bodies.

Ciel shook his head. "This is all the family that he had, to my knowledge. I'm sure we haven't found all of the staff, but I really don't care. We've moved further into the house than we were before. I'll ask you again; do you hear anyone or anything alive?"

"No, I do not," Sebastian answered. "However, something does not seem right."

"Was it the bodies or the detached arm that tipped you off?"

"Neither. These people were killed very impersonally."

"Impersonally?"

"Very," Sebastian replied. "Both the Marchioness Islington and her sons, and also the servants in the kitchen. They were killed viciously, but died quickly. They were a problem that was eliminated. If the assailant was looking for revenge or humiliation, they would almost certainly have showcased their achievements rather than simply getting things over with and moving on. Humans have such a flair for what they perceive to be drama; it is odd that someone would put such effort into-"

Clunk.

Sebastian and Ciel both looked up sharply. Ciel asked quietly, "What was that?"

"Something in the hall," Sebastian told him. Master and servant stepped back into the hallway. They walked slowly in the direction from which the sound had originated. Ciel lifted his pistol, holding it ready. The hallway ended in a closed door. Unlike every other door that they had passed, something was different. Light shone through the crevice under the door. From inside the room, he could hear the clear crackle of a fire. He glanced up at Sebastian, nodding. Stepping forward, the demon placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it. Then, he stepped inside, followed by his master.

A bizarre sight greeted them as they entered the room. Marquis Islington sat in front of a large fire that burned in a hearth. Or, more correctly, the Marquis's body sat in front of the fire, a large hole in the side of his head indicated that he was dead. Sitting in a living chair several feet away and sipping a cup of tea, a familiar face greeted them both. Edward Crowley smiled. "Won't you join me, Earl?"

"You're dead!" Ciel shouted in surprise, staring. "I shot you."

Edward Crowley arched an eyebrow, his chubby face contorted almost comically into an incredulous expression. "I would hope that it is obvious that I am not dead. Oh, where are my manners? Basil, get rid of that so our guest can have a seat."

Seemingly out of thin air, the gaunt figure of Basil Rosier appeared and picked up Marquis Islington's corpse, carting it away. As soon as the body was gone, Edward Crowley gestured towards the recently vacated chair. "I didn't like him much. He was very self-important for a marquis. Oh, well. Please, have a seat."

Ciel shot a glance at Sebastian, who looked very disgruntled. Thinking it unwise to decline the invitation, Ciel sat down and stared at Edward Crowley. His mind was in a dozen places. The marquis that he was supposed to be protecting was dead. Aside from the fact that he had failed the Queen, there were many other conclusions that could be drawn from the situation. First and foremost, the other families on the list were in grave danger. Someone that Ciel had believed to be dead had killed this family.

Staring at Crowley, Ciel demanded, "How is this possible? I shot you."

"You did, yes," Crowley agreed, taking another sip of tea. "However, you've quite the ego, Earl Phantomhive. You did not even stop to make certain that I was dead."

"No, I didn't. No one could survive a hole in their head like that. Ciel frowned. "Are you even human?"

At that, Crowley laughed. The sound was surprisingly sharp, completely at odds with his boyish looks. "Most certainly. One hundred percent, just like you."

Just like him. At that, the eye that was uncovered by Ciel's eye patch widened. "Your contract."

The missing piece to the puzzle, the one thing that he had not been able to figure out. Edward's claims that he had given Basil Rosier a food source in exchange for power had been vague at best. Even then, Ciel could recall the conversation he had with Crowley in the library of Tonbridge School only days before. It seemed an eternity away now.

_"With revenge, you only accomplish revenge. With power, you can have your revenge and anything else that you desire. Anything at all."_

Crowley's words rang clear in his mind. Sitting back in the chair, Ciel regained his look of cool indifference. "Your contract was in exchange for the ability to heal?"

"Immortality," Crowley corrected. "Try though you might, you cannot kill me. No, don't even think about it - your demon won't be able to, either."

"So you came here to kill me," Ciel guessed. "You knew where I was assigned."

"Knew? Not at all. I couldn't be bothered with intelligence work, finding out the specifics of what you had arranged with Queen Victoria. It would have been very hard to do, especially since you and your demon did such an excellent job eliminating most of the people working for me." Crowley let out a longsuffering sigh, setting his cup and saucer to the side. "No, I realized that if you want some done right, you have to do it yourself. So, I did just that. I took care of the houses myself."

"The houses?"

"Surely you can't be that daft, Phantomhive. I haven't taken care of the Queen's children yet, but I did see to the other nobles on the list. Baron Afton was first, and now that Lord Islington has seen the error of his ways...

"Though, I will say the Middlefords gave me a little trouble. They almost made me late to see you, you know."

At the mention of the Middleford name, Ciel sat forward in his chair. His voice dangerously quiet, he asked, "What have you done to them?"

Ignoring his words, Crowley shrugged and sat back in his chair. He laced his fingers together and smiled. "When you and I discussed the people to be killed, I did find it odd that you voiced no commentary on that particular family. It's common knowledge that you are - were - engaged to the daughter of the house. Pretty little thing. She fought very well. I liked the way she struggled against my hands as I strangled her."

Ciel's expression had gone incredibly dark. "You killed Lizzie?"

"Was that her name? I let Basil take care of the others - Marquis Middleford, the son. He actually had a little trouble with that lioness of a wife the man had, you know. Rather impressive. But I took care of the little girl myself. Did you know that she can use swords? That was a bit of a surprise. Sometimes, surprises are nice, don't you think?"

The words were light and airy, as though Crowley were commenting on the weather. Ciel felt the other boy's dark eyes watching him and looking for a reaction. No matter what Ciel felt at hearing someone declare that they had just killed what little family Ciel had left, this was not the time to indulge himself in mourning or self-pity. He did not even know whether or not the statements were true. At that moment, he had more pressing issues than worrying about a situation about which he could do nothing. Looking at the other boy, Ciel asked, "So, what now? Do you expect me to march back to Queen Victoria and kill her myself?"

"No, no. I'm tired of dealing with you, Phantomhive." With a wave of his hand, Crowley dismissed his questions. "It was fun for a while, but I'm bored."

"What do y-"

"On top of that, I don't think Basil was too happy about what your demon did to him," Crowley continued, looking away.

Ciel got to his feet. "What do you care?"

"I don't, but this will make things easier." Shrugging, Crowley sighed.

"Easier?" Ciel's anger turned to confusion.

Crowley turned back to look at him once more, smiling. "Basil, I do believe that we should let them know what we thought of this morning's events. Would you be so kind as to show them?"

Ciel barely had time to register what was happening. A blur of brown and blond rushed past him as he watched the tall form of Basil Rosier collide with Sebastian. The demons tumbled out of the room through the glass window that lined the wall behind Sebastian, the sound of shattered glass echoed through the room as they fell. Edward Crowley looked pleasantly at Ciel. "Now that they're out of the way, I believe you and I have some business to conclude."

~

The two demons fell from the second floor of the mansion to the ground below. The well-kept lawn broke the blow of the drop. Rolling quickly to his feet, Sebastian turned to face his opponent. Basil Rosier had dropped the timid facade that he usually kept up. Sharp eyes and sharp teeth were the most noticeable features on his face; the gaunt blond was in no mood to play human. There was no need to do so. Their masters were the only humans around for miles.

Sebastian glanced towards the mansion for the barest fraction of a second. Leaving his master with Edward Crowley was neither wise nor safe. He would have to return to the room where he had left them as quickly as possible. However, he first had to deal with the other demon that now blocked his path. Seeing a flash of movement, Sebastian turned back to face the other man. Rosier smiled, thin lips pulling tight over his teeth. "I believe I have a favor to repay, Michaelis. You managed to incapacitate me for some time this morning."

"Perhaps, but I am afraid that I do not have time to indulge you in your self-pity," Sebastian replied evenly.

At those words, Rosier launched himself at Sebastian, clearing the distance between them in record time. The other demon's spiderlike hands reached up to fasten around Sebastian's throat. As soon as he felt fingers on his skin, the butler brought his knee up, connecting solidly with Rosier's stomach.

Growling in reaction to the blow, Rosier grabbed Sebastian by the shoulders of his coat and threw him to the ground. The two demons fought, losing themselves in the violence that came to them naturally. Bloodied from his efforts, Sebastian pulled back with hand around the other man's throat as he heard a loud shout from the mansion behind him. He looked up sharply. "Young master."

"So easily distracted? You will not be able to defeat me," Rosier hissed, reaching up to pry Sebastian's fingers away from his neck.

Sebastian frowned. "I beg to differ. There are more important things than you that I must deal with now."

"Like your master? You'll never make it in time," Rosier taunted. Neither man turned when the sound of a gunshot echoed from the mansion. "My pupil is many things, but wasteful is not one of them. I'll bet he-"

The stream of words was cut off as Sebastian shot forward, driving his hand through Rosier's chest. Dark blood spurted up the length of his sleeve as the limb sank elbow-deep into the other man. He pulled his arm free and stepped back, watching the other demon fall to the ground with a snarl. The injury would not be enough to kill, but it would hopefully be enough to delay him long enough for Sebastian to return to Ciel's side.

Turning away, the butler faced the mansion. With no time to go back around to the front entrance, he scaled the wall of the building, using every vine and crack in the siding as a foot- or handhold. He pulled himself through the shattered remains of the glass window just in time to watch Ciel Phantomhive fire a pistol. Sebastian watched as the bullet struck Crowley, who stood in front of the fireplace that was still occupied by a warm fire. He took a step back as he was hit by the bullet, flinching slightly on impact.

Sebastian's eyes fixed on his master. The entire room smelled of gunpowder and blood. Ciel lay on the floor, blood running down the side of his face. When Ciel saw him, he murmured, "Sebastian..."

"Young master!" Sebastian took a step forward.

"It's rather amazing how well he can shoot, even after that," Crowley muttered. Reaching up, he pressed two fingers to the breast of his coat, watching as blood soaked through the fabric. With his other hand, he set aside a fireplace poker that he had been holding. Sebastian could see strands of hair hanging from the tool. The fact that it had been used to strike Ciel over the head was evident. Sighing, Crowley looked down at Ciel. "He's interesting, even when dazed."

"I would advise you to stay away from my master," Sebastian warned, kneeling beside Ciel. He ran a hand through Ciel's hair, frowning at the thick blood that was beginning to clot in the slate strands. Humans were such fragile creatures. A blow to the head was dangerous even in minor incidents. Sebastian needed to find a way to take both of them out of the situation as quickly as possible. Ciel was the only thing he was concerned with, and the sight of the blood on his scalp was troubling.

He did not see the blow coming as Basil Rosier came up behind Sebastian and thrust his arm entirely through the butler's chest. A blinding burst of pain pulled Sebastian's attention away from his master. He turned to face the other demon. Immediately, the tutor grabbed one of Sebastian's arms, pulling it hard enough to force it out of the socket. Sebastian swung his free arm, catching the other demon solidly on the side of the head. Rosier flew sideways, catching hold of Sebastian's coat as he went. The force of the blow and Sebastian's own weight sent both men tumbling. Turning, Rosier pinned him to the ground.

Rosier dug a hand into Sebastian's chest, aggravating the wound with his weight. "You cannot defeat me. Unlike you, I have eaten. I have an advantage over you where strength is concerned."

"Strength, and nothing else," Sebastian replied. "What can you possibly hope to accomplish?"

Arching his back, Sebastian tried to right himself and force the other demon off him. The instant he moved, Rosier twisted. The arm that held Sebastian's arm quickly grabbed the other, dislocating it. These wounds were minor. They would heal quickly, in seconds. Rosier knew that, as well. Sebastian prepared to make use of his legs and kick Rosier off him. The thought ground to a halt as both men looked up in response to Ciel shouting groggily.

Edward Crowley stood over the earl, calm and confident, fireplace poker in hand once more. The point of the utensil was dug into Ciel's throat, pressing hard against pale skin. Sebastian moved to attack. In that instant, Rosier picked up a fireplace shovel and buried it in Sebastian's thigh, the metal of the blade cutting through muscle and bone before lodging itself in the floor beneath him. Sebastian hissed, turning to pull the shovel away. As he moved, Rosier thrust a pair of tongs through his chest. The tongs were followed by skewers being run through his arms, legs and chest. Rosier placed his hand on the handle of a secondary shovel, pressing it into the left side of Sebastian's back and through his chest.

On the floor, Sebastian struggled against the blade even as it cut into him, fighting to get back to Ciel. He grunted in pain as the steel ground against him from inside his body. Crowley watched him, laughing as he pulled the fireplace poker away from Ciel's neck. "Did you really think that I would kill him? Here?"

"Oh, Basil. I believe you forgot a couple of things." Turning, Crowley picked up an ash broom and lightly tossed the broom and the poker the short distance to his tutor. "Make it count, and then bring Phantomhive. Good day, butler."

Rosier nodded, watching as his student exited the room. Turning his attention back to Sebastian, the demon said, "Can't have you going anywhere. Not for a moment, at least. Though, it won't take you long to get loose from this, I'm sure. Oh, well. Two more, just have to pay you back for this morning. That was impressive, you know."

With that, Rosier drove the fireplace poker far through the side of Sebastian's neck, smirking at the spurt of blood that erupted. The metal staked him in place, leaving less than six inches of metal still free of blood. Sebastian's eyes glowed dangerously as he glared at the other demon, his entire body pulsing with anger. He was furious over his own humiliation, but that did not matter even remotely as much as the fact that Ciel was in danger. Even so, Rosier was correct. He could remove himself from the situation, but it would take precious seconds. He did not have that luxury.

Sebastian let out an almost feral growl as Rosier buried the last of the tools in his chest. The ash broom pierced the thick layers of fabric and flesh that had started to rebuild themselves from where the blond demon had put his arm through Sebastian's chest moments before. With a loud crunch, the duster pierced the floorboards. For good measure, Rosier twisted the handle a few times, sending a burning wave of pain through Sebastian's body. Satisfied with his work, Rosier stepped away and picked Ciel up, hefting the boy's slight body over one shoulder. With one cold look, he turned and walked out of the room.

Pushing against the iron of the fireplace tools, Sebastian worked furiously to free himself from the makeshift bindings that held him trapped to the floor. Even with his healing, the seconds it would take to free himself were seconds too long. He had to get to his master. All too clearly, he could still picture the sight of Ciel's broken body in the room beneath Tonbridge School. That single image was enough to override the difficulty, pain and outright annoyance he felt at being pinned to the floor. He froze the instant he heard sound outside of the room.

Tick. Tack. Tick. Tack.

The sound of high-heeled shoes echoed off the marble floor of the mansion halls. The door to the room creaked open and the owner of the shoes stepped inside. A chastising click of the tongue was followed by a longsuffering sigh. "You're really in a spot this time, aren't you, Sebas-chan?"


	11. Chapter 11

Red-and-black high-heeled boots clicked noisily across the wooden floor of the room. Grell Sutcliff approached Sebastian's body with a look of disdain, his eyes surveying the mess that had once been a sitting room. The floor was covered in ash, blood and shattered glass. The plush chairs reeked of death. To one side, however, the absentee host had provided a delightful decoration: Sebastian Michaelis, pinned with all manner of fireplace tools.

"Such a mess, Sebas-chan! All of this filth, wreckage and... Oh my, blood! You really know how to show a girl a good time," the shinigami swooned. "I bet you are wishing that you hadn't backed out of your half of our deal right about now. You do look so lovely, though, sprawled on the floor in a puddle of red."

Sebastian looked up from his position on the floor, angling his face to get a look at the red-haired shinigami. A mouth full of sharp teeth grinned down at him. Not looking away, Sebastian arched an eyebrow.

"Even if I had, it would not have changed this particular eventuality," Sebastian replied evenly. "Our bargain, however nonexistent it may be, has no bearing on the present situation."

"You don't think so?" Grell asked, smirking.

Raising one foot, the shinigami placed the sole of his boot on the skewer that pinned Sebastian's left arm to the floor. Slowly, he lowered his weight onto it, watching in delight as Sebastian's expression faltered. Unable to contain himself, Grell let out a squeal of delight.

"You are completely irresistible! However, if you really want... I could just leave. I do have collections to complete, after all. Will would be so angry with me if I was late with the paperwork again. I am here on business, you know..."

Unimpressed, Sebastian's gaze did not waver. "Unpin me."

"Why should I?" Grell asked, standing up and dusting his clothing off to prevent wrinkles. He pouted. "The last time that I saw you, you got me all hot and bothered and then just ran away. You'll not get something for nothing from me. I'm not that sort of lady."

"You have something that I need," Sebastian replied. "Were you to remove these obstacles, I might be appreciative of such an action."

The redhead studied him, a skeptical look on his face. "Hearing someone like you say such a thing... truly, it makes my heart pound. But, Sebas-chan, the last time you and I had an understanding..."

"I do not lie," Sebastian told him. "Remove the skewers."

Bending over, Grell wrapped his fingers around the metal that protruded from Sebastian's arm. Slowly, he pulled the offending item out. The metal pulled free of the demon's body with a sickening sound. Tossing it to the side, he repeated the action with a second tool and began the tedious work of removing the objects.

One at a time, he removed the objects that had hampered Sebastian's escape. Finally, all that remained was the ash broom still lodged in Sebastian's back. Grell removed it excruciatingly slowly. A thick sucking sound filled the air as the head came free. No sooner had the bristles come away from Sebastian's flesh then Grell found himself pinned to a wall. A gloved hand wrapped around his throat. From less than a foot away, Sebastian's dark eyes stared at him completely without amusement.

The unexpected turn of events did nothing to shake Grell's resolve. He smiled cattishly up at the demon in front of him. "Pushing me up against a wall like this in this kind of situation..."

The hand around his throat cut off the remainder of his words. Sebastian leaned closer, dragging a hand across Grell's chest and down his shoulder.

"I do not lie," Sebastian whispered. "I will take from you exactly what I desire."

Grell shivered in anticipation of what might come, relishing the closeness of the man in front of 's fingers teased as they traced their way down Grell's arm. When the fingers reached his wrist, he realized his mistake. Tensing, he said, "Sebas-chan, you..."

White gloved fingers tightened around the chainsaw that was in the shinigami's hand. In an instant, the weapon was pulled away as the demon pried it easily from his grip. Taking a graceful step backwards, Sebastian swung his hand and punched Grell full in the face, the handle of the death scythe couched in his palm. A less than feminine scream filled the room as the strike hit home. Grell slumped to the floor.

"You told me you'd be appreciative!" he shrieked.

"And so I might have. Unfortunately, I did not guarantee it," Sebastian said. He lifted the chainsaw. "I will borrow this."

Straightening his clothing, the butler eyed the death scythe that he held in his hand. The gloves that he wore were a bloody messy. There was nothing that he could do about the rest of his clothing, but this was something for which he had a solution. After all, his master would never approve of their current state. Smoothly, he removed the gloves and replaced them with a slightly less filthy pair from the interior breast pocket of his coat. With that, he lifted his borrowed weaponry and strode out of the room.

Edward Crowley and his apathetic tutor had once again dared to take Ciel. Since the night that Sebastian had found his master dead beneath the boarding school, this was the one thing that he had come to dread. Fear had turned to reality. Each passing moment was one in which Sebastian could not properly defend Ciel. Cold anger simmered beneath the surface as Sebastian paced towards the front doors of the mansion and considered that fact.

Sebastian's only thought was of finding his young master. That and making certain that nothing like this would ever happen again. All of his senses turned inward, focusing on the delicate thread of connection that tied the demon and his master to their contract. The symbol on the back of his left hand began to tingle, itching with the knowledge of where his master was being kept. The feeling was faint and indistinct. Ciel was fading. Still, it was enough. He knew where he needed to go. Leaving the mansion behind, he hurried.

~

The Crowley house looked completely innocuous from the outside. The stone walls and darkened plate glass windows appeared quaint and harmless in the dying evening light. Everything on the interior of the house was covered in shadows, hidden from the casual observer on the outside. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The sounds of night birds filled the evening air around the building. In the grass, insects chirruped peacefully. There was nothing amiss, and yet Sebastian knew that his master was being kept somewhere inside.

Walking to the house, he turned the handle on the front door and stepped inside. The door had barely been closed, its lock left unlatched. What the exterior of the house had managed to cover, he could see clearly on the inside. Evidence of dark deeds filled the building. The air reeked of death. Sebastian's keen senses picked up traces of the violence that had happened in the home only hours before.

Pacing through the rooms, he made note of the smallest details. Blood from Edward Crowley's head wound had congealed on the dining room floor. Dirt and broken wood showed the abuse the house had taken. The scents of Crowley, Basil Rosier, his master and half a dozen others lingered in the house. None of the scents, however, told him where to find the boy.

The feeling of the contract was fading with every second that passed, one of its owners undoubtedly dying. The fainter and more indistinct that it became, the harder it was to follow. Sebastian searched through the house, his expression darkening with each new area that he passed through. Reaching the last room, Sebastian stared out the back kitchen door onto the empty fields behind the house. The building was empty.

Precious moments passed, yet the contract was too faint to trace beyond this general locale. Somewhere, possibly on feet away, his master's life was fading. He could feel the boy dying. The sensation burned through Sebastian, fueling his frustration. Hatred like nothing he had known before simmered below the surface. "Young master."

Then he felt it. A breeze. The door that led out onto the back lawn was not the source. Instead, this breeze was being pulled through the cracks above and below the exit. The wind was nearly intangible, certainly not something that a human could have felt. Yet, it was there. Turning, Sebastian examined the wall behind him. Reaching up with one hand, he slid his fingers along the grain of the wood until he found the source of the draft; a crack in the wall ran from ceiling to floor, barely visible to the naked eye. He pressed on it. Light pressure caused the wood to shift, sliding backwards a quarter of an inch. Sebastian shoved the panel backwards, pushing when it gave.

Sebastian stared down at the passageway that the door had revealed. In front of him, there was an earthen hall barely wider than his shoulders. It led down into darkness. Without hesitating, Sebastian stepped into the blackness and began to descend the stairs. He knew at once what he had found. This was a root cellar. Once, it had likely been used to preserve food. The scent of the stagnant air that it contained now revealed a darker purpose, however. Musty and wet, the area smelled strongly of blood and water. The sounds of an underwater spring babbling somewhere under the building muffled any underlying whispers or footsteps that might have revealed another presence.

At the base of the stairs, Sebastian found himself standing in a small corridor. He needed neither a candle nor a lantern to follow it. This was a game against time. Turning, he followed the rough brick passage, his mind focused on his goal. Even with his entire mind on his master, he could not ignore the similarities that this place held to the passage that had led him to his master's body only days before.

The corridor ended in a wooden door. Sebastian pushed the barrier open, paying no mind to the locks that might have held it in place. He stepped into the room beyond. A small candle perched on the brick provided the only source of light. The musty scent that he had caught in the hall outside was thicker in this room, but it did little to cover the scent of fresh blood and vomit. Even through the dimness of the room, Sebastian saw the source of the smell almost immediately. His breath caught in his chest as he realized what he was looking at.

At the far end of the room, a makeshift table had been fashioned from old pipes and a rotting door. Tied to the surface with ragged ropes, Ciel Phantomhive was exactly as he had been at Tonbridge School. The darkness in the room did nothing to disguise the fact that the cuts on his arms had been reopened. His chest was slick with blood. He was not moving.

Dropping the death scythe that he had in his hand, Sebastian rushed to his master's side. "Young master!"

Before he had gotten more than a meter, he found his way blocked. Basil Rosier appeared seemingly out of thin air, blocking Ciel entirely from view. Glinting eyes were all that Sebastian made out as the other man took a step forward.

"Michaelis. A little late, aren't you? You've kept us waiting."

Sebastian did not move to take a step backwards as Rosier moved closer. Smiling, the tutor's lips turned up in a mocking grin. When Sebastian moved to step around him, the other demon blocked his path once more.

"Is there a problem?" Rosier asked coolly.

"You will step away from my young master." Sebastian met his gaze, eyes burning. "I am not in a patient mood today."

"Too little, too late. Your master's dead. No point in me backing off now, is there?" Rosier turned, looking at the prone form behind him. Ciel was framed in shadows, barely visible in the dim light. Sebastian looked past him, taking in the sight. He could hear the blood dripping from the table to the floor below. Rosier raised an eyebrow, turning back to him. "You see?"

Realizing something, Sebastian's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Where is your pupil?"

Sebastian's eyes returned to Rosier's face from the blocked sight of his master. The menacing gaze had little effect on the tutor. Instead, the blond laughed.

"He'll be along. I wanted a chance to talk to you. You know, even while we were beating that gardener into unconsciousness, he was singing your praises. Yours. Not just your master. Disgusting, a demon who dallies with humans. I confess that I do not understand. What could you possibly hope to gain from it?"

"Something that you will never understand," Sebastian replied flatly.

He took a step towards his master. Instantly, Basil Rosier's hand was on his shoulder. Sebastian was driven into a wall, the cold stone tumbling down in flakes onto his shoulder.

"It isn't decent," the blond said, crushing his fingers around the butler's shoulder, "acting like that around a human. Did you think that you could save him, this child you call your master? Did you want to save him? I can't decide whether you're really that daft, or if it's all just a part of your devilish sche-"

Sebastian reached up, wrapping his fingers around Rosier's throat. Rosier's words ended as he grinned, his face turning maniacal. In the blink of an eye, it was Basil Rosier who was pressed into the wall. Sebastian stared at him from only inches away.

Rosier moved quickly. While Sebastian's hand held his throat to the wall, his arms were free to move. He pressed a cold hand into the still-healing wound on the butler's chest. Sebastian's hands moved quickly, but not fast enough to stop the motion. Hissing, he flinched. That small allowance was all the advantage that Rosier needed. Twisting his hands, the taller demon sent both of them tumbling to the ground.

Rosier pinned Sebastian against the cold brick, bringing the hand not buried in his chest up to circle his neck in a mocking imitation of Sebastian's own pose. Pulling his hand away from Rosier's throat, Sebastian moved to pull the other demon's hand from his chest. He gasped as flesh and fabric pulled away with the offending limb.

The hand around his throat barely registered as he bunched his legs and forced the other man off him. Rosier's hand around his throat tightened, his fingernails turning to claws. As they tumbled, Rosier tore at Sebastian's throat. Blood gushed from the wounds, soaking the remains of Sebastian's coat and shirt.

Rosier tumbled to the ground, staring at the slick redness that covered his fingers. Studying the sight in the candlelight, he laughed. Sebastian wasted no time. Taking advantage of the distraction, he swung a leg around, aiming for the other demon's spine. The leg was stopped mid-kick by a broad hand.

"You're fast, I'll give you that," Rosier muttered, his fist tightening on Sebastian's calf. The smile did not leave his face. "But fast won't be enough to save you. You'll make a lovely addition to the set, you know, when your body lies cold next to your master's."

At that, Sebastian tore his leg from the other demon's grasp and leapt to his feet. He was beyond furious. A black aura hung around him as he flickered between his butler self and his natural state. In the dimness of the cellar, his eyes glowed red. Blood seeped from the fresh cuts in his throat, making his voice rough. "Whatever you have done to my master, you will pay a thousand times over with your own flesh."

Turning, Rosier prepared to attack. The look of amusement stretched his features, enhancing the look of madness. "To think, you cannot even see it! I expected more from you."

"See what, precisely?" Sebastian asked quietly.

"How _human_ you seem," Rosier replied. He lunged.

Sebastian dodged easily to the side, retaliating with a strike. His opponent avoided the motion, hitting the wall with a dull thud as he moved away.

Rosier wiped the blood from his hands onto his clothing. He gave a mock bow to Sebastian. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. You have become a disgrace to our kind. How disgusting, how base, a demon who has fallen in lo-"

The words had not even fallen from his lips before Sebastian's hand was at his chest. The smile on Rosier's face died as Sebastian's eyes met his. His green eyes widened as the hand pressed into his chest, too quickly to be stopped.

"I am not the one who is a disgrace, but it matters little now," Sebastian murmured. "I will take from you what you have taken from me."

With that, he thrust his hand into Rosier's chest. The other demon howled, the sound barely covering the cracking of bones. The howl turned to an animalistic scream as Sebastian's hand tightened around his heart. Twisting his wrist, Sebastian wrenched the organ from its owner's body. The sound died as Rosier fell to the side.

Removing the heart of a demon would not kill him. Any of their kind could recover from such a minor injury. Sebastian knew and he did not care. The action had accomplished its goal. Basil Rosier would not be able to function any time soon. There were more pressing matters to deal with. Tossing the lump of flesh to the side, Sebastian turned and crossed the distance separating himself from his master.

Sebastian's expression darkened as he stood in front of the table and looked at Ciel's body. He could no longer feel him through the contract. The sight of the broken body before him stirred all the dark emotions that he had managed to keep in check. Those feelings intensified as he studied the numerous injuries that decorated his master's delicate body. Red was smeared across most of his skin, hiding any cuts that might have been visible on his chest and arms. Blood dripped from his soaked clothing onto the stone floor below.

Reaching out, Sebastian brushed his fingertips down the side of the boy's face. Everything that he had worked for, every moment of service, had been for naught. Sebastian frowned, cupping Ciel's cheek in his hand. The soft, porcelain skin that he had admired so much was clammy. Clammy, but not cold.

Sebastian paused, all of his thoughts coming to a halt. There, at the very edge of his range of hearing, he could detect a sound. Though it was nearly inaudible, it was there. He could hear the fluttering sounds of a heartbeat, soft but steady. His eyes widened. "Young master."

In a moment, Sebastian had untied the ropes that had held the boy to the table. He pulled Ciel into his arms, resting him against his chest. Face pressed to the remains of his chest, Ciel murmured wordlessly. Even though his hands were filthy, he could not resist running his fingers through the boy's hair. His master was alive. That was the only thing that mattered. Pressing his lips to the strands of soft-black hair, Sebastian let out a sigh.

Behind him, the slow sound of applause killed any feeling of relief that Sebastian might have had. Slowly, deliberately, Sebastian turned on his heels. Standing in the shadows of the doorway, Edward Crowley clapped. He stood out against the dingy interior of the room, his suit clean and freshly pressed. An angelic smiled adorned his chubby face.

"Very well played demon," Crowley praised. "I am sorry that I was late. Hopefully, I haven't missed all the fun."

Something was not right. There was nothing so foolish as Crowley's choice to appear just then. He made a very easy target. His demon was incapacitated and soon to die. There was nothing to stop Sebastian from simply ripping the boy limb from limb. Immortal and invulnerable were two very different things, and the second did not apply here. The gall of the action was unbelievable. Sebastian stood holding his dying master in his arms, yet Crowley dared to smile.

Casually, Crowley paced across the stone floor. The sound of his shoes echoed off the walls. He walked over to Rosier, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "He really is a disappointment, you know. I would have thought that it would take you longer to ground him. Still, he may have been of some use. He'll be up in a few minutes, regardless. Though, I must say, that was sloppy on both of your parts. I expected more from both of you."

Walking several more feet, he turned to look at Sebastian. "Now, however, I am curious about one thing."

Sebastian's arms tightened around Ciel. "What is that?"

"Did you really think I would let Basil do that to your master?" Crowley asked skeptically. "I would never let him have all the fun."

The meaning behind the words was plain enough. The anger that Sebastian had barely managed to suppress flared to the surface once more. Slowly, he turned and lowered Ciel back to the table. "I am sorry, young master. You will have to be patient for a moment longer."

With one last look at his master, he turned back to face Edward Crowley. Flatly, he told him, "You stand here and mock myself and my master after I have disabled your tutor. Are you not afraid?"

Crowley turned, ignoring his tutor once more. "Why would I be afraid of you? You can't do anything to me."

Sebastian closed the distance between them so quickly that Crowley did not have a chance to blink. He stood in front of the teen, eyes glowing menacingly. "Can't I?"

"What will you do?" Crowley asked. "You can't kill me; I'm immortal. Like you, I'll just heal up again. Even if you tear me apart, it'll just be a matter of time. You may frighten some, but you don't scare me."

"You are quite correct. You are immortal, at least so long as your demon survives, and as such I cannot kill you." Sebastian took a step forward. "However, I never said that I intended to kill your body."


	12. Finale

Only the space of a few inches separated the demon from the boy in front of him. A quiet, smoldering anger and the fire of absolute hatred burned through Sebastian's body as he looked down at the face of the person who had dared to try and kill his master twice.

Edward Crowley smiled up at him, his expression free from any worry or stress. It did not matter that he was less than a foot from a being that embodied death and destruction. Crowley had absolutely no doubt that he was superior to Sebastian in every way. To him, a demon was nothing more than a slave or servant. A dangerous slave, perhaps, and one that might rebel, but still nothing more than a tool to be used in whatever way best suited its owner.

There was a stark contrast between the two. Covered in blood, his suit torn almost beyond recognition, Sebastian was a shadow of his former glory. Just then, he looked every inch the demon he was even though his human guise remained intact. The expression on his face was dark and dangerous, full of malicious intent towards those who would harm his master. Anyone other than Edward Crowley would have backed away from him in both disgust and terror.

Crowley, however, seemed unaffected by the demon's presence. Clean-cut and dressed in a freshly pressed suit, he looked bored by the fact that his shoes had been covered in filth. He simply looked up at Sebastian skeptically, as though he were waiting for something to happen.

"Are you going to eat my soul?" Crowley asked, unafraid. "If you can't kill my body, that must be it. I know you don't have to be in a contract with me to do so."

The dark look on Sebastian's face sharpened. Crowley was correct. If Sebastian had so desired, he could devour the boy's soul. That would bring a definite end to the entire ordeal. Immortality only applied to the body; it had nothing to do with what was held within.

One glance at the makeshift table where his master's body was lying dampened any thoughts of delivering such a clean ending. Leaving Crowley alive was not an option, but Sebastian had not fallen so far as to give into base hungers such as that one. The only soul he desired was that of his young master. Over the past week, even that had been called into question.

Unhappy with his own train of thought, Sebastian replied. "Unfortunately no, I am afraid that I have far better tastes. I do not need to lower myself to that level in order to rid myself of someone such as you."

The look of superiority and certainty in Crowley's eyes flickered as confusion set in. He had not considered that there might be another way in which Sebastian could dispose of him. Sebastian's eyes surveyed the room discretely, making note of the tool that he would need in order to complete his task. Grell's chainsaw lay neglected in the same place that he had dropped it earlier. The weapon had gone unnoticed by every other occupant of the room, its true nature unknown to the boy standing in front of him. Death scythes were powerful weapons, ones which could steal the soul of any living creature. Even a demon. While Edward Crowley was hardly a demon, the blade would certainly do its work on him the same as any other living creature.

Knowing that Crowley posed no immediate danger, Sebastian turned and walked across the small space to the chainsaw. He lifted it off the ground with tease, testing the weight in his hands as he turned around. He parted his lips to ask the boy if he knew what the weapon was. Instead, he only stared.

In the space of the few seconds that it had taken him to retrieve the weapon, Edward Crowley had gained an ally. Rather than standing alone, Basil Rosier was standing at his back. While conscious and standing, it was clear that he was barely functional. He was covered in blood. His monstrous form was stuck halfway between human and monster. His false appearance was failing quickly, his true form shining through the ragged edges of his everyday appearance. Rounded fingers shifted into claws and back once more. Even as Sebastian watched, Rosier's green eyes lost all color, turning cold and menacing like those of a snake. His skeletal features were painted in sharp contrast in the dim light of the cellar. Seeing him as he was, Sebastian could not fathom how he had ever managed to blend in with the human staff of Tonbridge School.

"Not expecting to see me?" Rosier breathed, wheezing with the effort.

No, in truth, Sebastian had not expected to see the demon on his feet so quickly. Any other demon would have needed the better part of an hour to recover from having their heart removed. Raw physical strength had apparently translated into natural resilience, helping Rosier to recover from his grievous injury more quickly than others might have.

The unexpected turn in events was both a good thing and bad thing. With Rosier standing directly behind his master, they made one very easy target. Sebastian knew that he could take both of them out in one strike. Even supposing that Basil Rosier managed to move out of the way of the death scythe, his pupil would have no such luck. Human reflexes were far too slow to out-maneuver a demon. Rosier was not a demon who valued his master for anything more than meals; he would not save the boy. That was a thought that had doubtlessly occurred to both of them.

Ignoring Rosier's question, Sebastian asked, "Are you trying to make a package deal of your student and yourself? You make a very neat package, practically wrapped with twine."

"Oh, but you're assuming that you can kill either of us," Rosier responded roughly. He eyed the chainsaw appraisingly, clearly aware of its true nature. "And with a little gardener's toy, too."  
Lifting the chainsaw, Sebastian started the blade. "That has never been an assumption. It is merely a statement of fact."

With nothing else to be said, Sebastian hefted the chainsaw. He watched with a rush of satisfaction as Edward Crowley's eyes widened in the realization that he had been defeated. While the boy did not know what a death scythe was, he was obviously aware that this was no mortal weapon. There would be no easy way out, no deception or servant to save his life this time. Revving the motor, Sebastian lowered the blade and began to charge forward.

"Sebas...tian..."

The fragile sound of Ciel's voice was enough to stop the demon in his tracks. For less than a fraction of a second, Sebastian glanced towards where his master's immobile body was lying on the table. That single instant was all it took. Turning his attention back towards his targets, he was caught off guard a Basil Rosier flew towards him. Sebastian had less than a breath to glance towards his master, seeing Edward Crowley moving towards the table, before he could focus on nothing but his own opponent.

The air around them seemed to burn as they collided. Basil Rosier wrapped his hands around the handle of the chainsaw, careful to avoid the blade as he tried to pry the scythe from Sebastian's gloved hands.

"My, my," he growled. "Wherever did you get such an interesting toy? Is its owner around here somewhere, too? He won't have much to clean up when I'm done, sadly."

Responding with force, Sebastian pushed him away as best he could with the weapon. The other demon had been correct; Sebastian's speed could not make up for the strength advantage that so clearly belonged to Rosier. The blade was not heavy in his hands, but the bulk of it was undeniably awkward.

Reinforcing his grip and lashing out, Sebastian ground the blade against Rosier's arm. An animalistic hiss filled the room as the blade bit into the tutor's shirt, turning the white fabric scarlet. Rosier pulled away by only a few inches, letting go of the weapon with one hand. He reached up to touch the wound. Looking at the blood coating his fingertips, he arched an eyebrow and laughed. A cut to the extremities was hardly enough to kill, even with a death scythe. "Is that the best you can do?"

Lunging forward, Sebastian thrust the chainsaw towards the other demon. The motor growled, the sound of the metal blade consuming all silence that remained in the room. Stepping neatly to the side, Rosier ducked away from the blade. He reached out with one arm, moving to take hold of Sebastian's unhealed throat once more. His green eyes glowed in triumph as he made the move, confident in his own domination.

No sooner had his fingertips brushed against the shredded flesh but Rosier's confident expression turned to one of surprise. He let out a howl of pain. Taking a step forward, Sebastian pressed the chainsaw upwards at a sharp angle. The air filled with a sick squelching sound, padded by that of blood hitting the dirt-covered floor.

Less than a minute later, Sebastian stepped away smoothly. He pulled the chainsaw to him, shaking it free of debris. Taking another step back, he surveyed the damage. The blade had torn through the left side of Basil Rosier's chest, cutting away fabric and flesh. All that was left was a gaping, bloody hole where the blade had torn his ribcage apart on both entry and exit. Most importantly, the weapon had struck the one point he had hoped to hit. There was only one weakness that he could have exploited, one that even Rosier had to realize. Sebastian smiled.

"All for a bloody human," Rosier spat. He looked down at the gaping hole in his side. He stood for another two seconds before his newly healed heart gave out. Then, he collapsed to the floor, never to rise again.

Eying the chainsaw in his hands, Sebastian's smirk turned to a look of disgust. He dropped the death scythe to the floor. He had no further use for the weapon. Not bothering to dust himself off, he began to turn towards his master. Suddenly, a loud scream resonated through the chamber.

"Young master!" Sebastian turned on his heels, preparing to fly to Ciel's side. What he saw as he turned was enough to stop him in his tracks.

Halfway leaning against the makeshift table to which he had been tied; Ciel was hunched in a strange position. In front of him, Edward Crowley had fallen to his knees. It took Sebastian a moment to take in exactly what he was seeing in front of him. The shining silver knife that Crowley had used to torture Ciel and countless others was buried in his throat, no longer bright but covered in blood.

Ciel's hands slipped away from the handle. He turned to Sebastian with a dazed look in his eyes, his legs giving way beneath him. In an instant, Sebastian was at his side. He caught the boy in his arms before he hit the ground. Kneeling to the ground, Sebastian pulled his master to his chest. In front of them, Edward Crowley clawed uselessly at his own throat. His fingers slipped over the knife, trying to remove it from his throat. He struggled to breathe, the blood coming from the wound frothing up around the weapon. He gurgled wordlessly as he realized that his efforts were useless. The weapon worked itself free and clattered to the ground, lying harmlessly on the dirt and stones. For one terrible moment, Crowley looked at Sebastian and Ciel. The look in his eyes said that he clearly could not believe what had happened. Then, with one final, watery cough, he fell to the ground. Edward Crowley was dead.

In Sebastian's arms, Ciel trembled. Neither master nor servant cared that they were covered in blood, sitting in a rotting cellar filled with death. The only thing that mattered to Sebastian was the fact that Ciel was alive. All threats to his person and life had been eliminated in a matter of moments, partially thanks to the boy himself.

Relief, a rare sensation, flooded through Sebastian's veins as he took in the satisfying sight of the corpse in front of him. He listened to the silence around them, double-checking his own self-assurance. The room was silent except for the small sounds of Ciel's breaths. The only naturally beating heart in the room belonged to his master.

"Is it finished?" Ciel asked, his voice shaky.

Sebastian pressed his lips to Ciel's hair, not caring that the strands were covered in sweat, blood and filth. "Yes, young master. It is finished."

Getting to his feet, Sebastian held his master close. Together, they walked out of the cellar.

~

Two weeks later, Ciel stood outside of his mansion with a disparaging look on his face. That look vanished as the girl attached to his waist pulled out of the very tight hug, beaming at him brightly. He waved halfheartedly as she pulled away. Curls, ribbons and a bright smile bounced back towards the carriage sitting in the drive as Lizzy said her final good byes.

"We'll be back to see you soon, Ciel! I promise!" she called, waving out the window of the carriage. From somewhere inside, the sound of her mother's voice reproaching her unladylike manners took her attention away. After a moment, she vanished inside and the carriage pulled away from the house with the loud sound of wheels on gravel.

As they left, Ciel let out a loud sigh. Turning, he walked back into the house. Sebastian followed silently as they made their way through the halls to reach the office.

Ciel hated the tedium of social interactions. Even so, he had found himself immensely relieved to discover that one piece of information that he had been given during the ordeal with Edward Crowley had been incorrect. While damage had been done to other families, the Middlefords had never been in danger. As far as anyone could tell, they had never even been contacted by Crowley or his demon.

"You must be very relieved to be reunited once more with Miss Elizabeth," Sebastian commented smoothly, opening the door to let his master enter the office before him. There was no mistaking the characteristic smile on his face. The smirk widened as Ciel glared at him.

"Shut up," the earl muttered. "I am merely relieved to find that they are unharmed. It would have caused unnecessary trouble if the information had been correct. Though, I do not understand why Crowley did not simply kill them. He planned to. They would have posed a threat to him if his plan had escalated."

Ciel walked over to the desk and sat down in his chair. Seconds later, he registered the feel of Sebastian's gloved fingers running through his hair, smoothing it out and putting his eye patch into place.

"More than likely, he did not wish to draw attention to a number of prominent families being killed simultaneously at that point in his plan," Sebastian surmised. "Since he had succeeded in his efforts to assassinate Marquis Islington, he might have wished for other killings to go unnoticed until his plan could progress to its later stages. His designs were ambitious, yes, but tedious.

"In addition to this, your relatives would have provided fearsome resistance if he had attempted to dispatch them. Surely, he would have known that from his research."

"What do you mean, tedious?"

"What Edward Crowley hoped to accomplish was a futile task," Sebastian replied softly. "While his plans might have succeeded if he had the manpower to put them into action, I believe that was not the case. After all, his team of assassins was dispatched within a short amount of time, even by my standards."

Ciel looked up at the butler. Sebastian continued to run his hand through his master's hair. After a moment, Ciel looked away. He was still unused to his own level of comfort at the affectionate gestures that the demon bestowed on him. They were becoming more commonplace, both in actuality and in Ciel's own mind.

"You're certain he had no other accomplices?" Ciel asked.

"I am fairly certain, yes."

"Fairly certain does not mean yes, Sebastian."

Sebastian smiled. "One can never be truly certain of anything, young master. Not even I."

Glancing back at the man, Ciel finally pulled away from his touch. "You wouldn't have known that he was that weak from the way he talked, or from what he managed to accomplish."

"Appearances can be deceiving." Sebastian brought his hand back to rest at his side. "Are you ready for your afternoon tea? I have prepared an exquisite chocolate tart for your enjoyment today."

"Yes."

Sebastian bowed lightly. The pleased expression on his face did not vanish even as he turned and walked out of the room. Ciel watched him walk away soberly. The change in their relationship had done nothing but intensify in the two weeks that had followed their dramatic finish with Edward Crowley and his demonic tutor. Sebastian's possessiveness had extended even while Ciel had been recovering from his injuries, which had been plentiful. Soft touches, kisses and closeness were carefully kept behind closed doors. Even so, they were something that he had come to expect. In truth, he had no idea what to make of his newfound closeness to Sebastian. The only thing he knew was that a door had been opened that he could not close.

With an irritated sigh, he turned back to look at the surface of his desk. There were countless pieces of paperwork that had amassed during his endeavors in solving that particular case for Queen Victoria. As a result, he would have to dedicate much of his free time over the following week to sorting out the mess that was Funtom Company's standard correspondence. Not seeing any point in delaying his work, he reached out and pulled an envelope from a nearby stack of mail

As he pulled it onto the desk, however, he paused. There envelope was plain and unmarked. There was no name or form of address on the parchment. Flipping it over, he pulled out the contents. A single piece of paper, carefully folded, contained only five words in blood red ink:

_Do you want to play?_

**End.**


End file.
